I one day concluded, as I was trekking through the wilderness of my schizophrenic mind, that I had never known myself better than anyone else did. I came to this conclusion after I had met my own mind within that forest. Her name was Walpurga. She stood taller than I and would peer down on me with those penetrating, luminescent eyes. Eyes which illuminated the forest when it became night in my mind. Now, when it became night, I was off my medication. When it became daylight, I was drugged up with my medication. I have concluded since my encounter with Walpurga; my conscience, she would stand out more like a beacon to me more than ever, signaling me to wake up and focus on her beam of light when it was nighttime in my mind.
One evening, when the light of reason was painted across the horizon with reds and yellows, this carroty hue glazed my face as I could feel the medication wearing off. I felt uneasy and jittery. Depressed and anxiety stricken. There I stood at the edge of the forest of my wind completely hesitant to make my nightly journey into its abysmal blackness.
They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, and there I was, just another step into the endless black of my unmedicated mind. As during each twilight, each transition, I either dip my foot in the relieving bath of light, or I disappear into the wild nothingness that is my mind.
This story will begin with me stepping into my nighttime psychosis. Stepping with ease from the unease that is the blue light of twilight, and into mysterious shadows of my psychosis.
