About half an hour later, I heard Eric’s laugh in my mind. I tried to fight Eric’s and Carmine’s voices, as I had a seven-page sociology paper due the next day and hadn’t been able to put any research into it. I drove to the Colonie Town Library to start. Soon Eric’s voice left, but Carmine’s remained. I told Carmine that I was hoping to be his friend and that Eric and all his drama was just stupid. After my admission, I saw a green sign in my mind that said, “Game over.” I felt the white presence and the voices leave. It was 6:45 p.m. After a few minutes, I realized the voices had gone, and I ran out of the library so excited. When I got home, I was so happy that I actually started dancing and jumping up and down. My mother even found it funny, and it was nice to see her laugh and smile. I didn’t turn in my sociology paper, but it was only a day late and luckily the teacher still accepted it.
When I woke up the next day—Thursday, May 3—I was so enthusiastic that I had a clear mind. I just sat at the edge of my bed before getting in the shower, savoring the knowledge that my life was back to normal. No more voices echoed in my mind. When I got to school, since I could now pay attention to what was going around me and not just in my mind, I decided to walk around and see if I could talk to anybody. I ran into Taylor, Melanie’s friend. Taylor once openly asked all of her male friends how many times they masturbated. She thought that most boys masturbated five or six times a day. Another time when Taylor was in line at the cafeteria, she pointed to me and told the woman running the cash register, “He loves penis.”
After a brief conversation with Taylor that morning, I went to my homeroom and saw that Gabe was present. As soon as the math teacher was done taking attendance, I had another telepathic conversation with Gabe. I was so crushed as I thought the voices in my mind were gone. He told me that he knew beforehand that the weeklong telepathic charade was over. All the voices had told me that there were a large number of students who knew what was going on. In government, Eric was there, but my mind was clear and experienced no unusual activity. For the first time since March, I was fully paying attention and answered some of the teacher’s questions. There were only two people whose voices I had heard in my mind that day: Tyler and Gabe. Even though I felt like I was still communicating telepathically, I was so happy that the voices in my mind had been drastically reduced.
The strangest thing about May 3 was that I was extremely happy even though I followed the same daily routine that in January and February had made me completely miserable. I always wanted more out of life, instead of just appreciating what I had. On May 3, I was content with having a semi-clear mind.
On Friday, I had my first psychiatrist appointment. I had to go to school in the morning to turn in my sociology paper, which was already a day late. I was surprised that for the first time since March, Gabe was in math but I didn’t hear his voice at all. This was also the second time during my government class that I didn’t hear Eric’s voice. For the first time since March, I actually didn’t mind government class. The notes that I took were clear; normally when I heard the voices, all of my notes looked as if a preschooler had gone haywire with a pen and a notebook.
I was very intimidated about my psychiatrist appointment because Dr. Roberts was older, very serious, and had a stern appearance. I went through all the different voices that I heard in my mind. I told him about the “range” and how for the last week I continually heard Eric’s and Carmine’s voices. I described how each voice in my mind was different because I thought I was talking to each person. Dr. Roberts wrote everything down. Then he told me, “Well, it sounds like you’re convinced, but this is not real.”
I just wouldn’t settle. I was convinced that this was real—that when I walked into each classroom, there was another male student with whom I was sharing my thoughts. After a few minutes, my mother came into the room and tried to explain that I had a mental illness; this wasn’t some psychic mind-reading game. My mother explained that we had a history of mental illness in our family, and Dr. Roberts shared experiences from his thirty-seven years of practice—how some individuals thought that they were talking to ghosts or saw things that weren’t real. The voices in my mind kept saying that they were real, so I would listen to them more than my psychiatrist or my mother. Dr. Roberts ordered an MRI and started me on Zyprexa, an antipsychotic. I willingly took the medication because I would do anything to make the voices in my mind end.
On Saturday, I continued to hear Eric’s and Carmine’s voices from my house, but it was intermittent. They would only last for a few hours at a time, after which I would be able to focus on something else. Still, I recognized it as a problem and wanted it to end. During every class that week, I still heard everyone’s voices. On Wednesday, I went to my grandfather’s grave site and prayed for him to make the voices stop. I was out of ideas. When at the grave site, I heard Eric’s voice. “Why did you leave your house? You could have just prayed from your room.” He also said that praying didn’t work, and I called
