Being a schizophrenic is like living in a nightmare world in which everything is trying to kill you, and you wish someone would.
My name is Kateri, and I have schizophrenia. I can’t speak for the experience of everyone with schizophrenia. Not really. We’re all different and the same. But I don’t see enough stories from people like me. I desperately want to know people like me.
Imagine for a second you couldn’t trust your own ears. Your own eyes. Your own heart. Your own mind. That your nightmares chased you into your waking hours and bayed for your blood.
I thought I deserved these nightmares. I thought I was fundamentally evil, a broken creature bereft of value. I carried them with me, dragging at my feet, screaming in my ears.