Well, hello there. I didn't really know where to put this, so I thought this would be the best place for it. My name is David, I'm 19 years of age, and I'm Schizophrenic. I've never really spoken to anyone about my problems - at least, not properly. I've always isolated myself from others, struggled to make friends, and as such, I haven't really had the oppurtunity to speak to anyone. Even though I believe that if it came down to it, in person, I'd struggle to talk. So I guess that's why I'm here. To talk. To seek guidance from people in this marvellous race we call Homosapian. So, where to start? I really don't know. From my first memory, I guess. My earliest memory was from when I was around the age of 8. I used to live in a flat with my mother, and my great grandmother, in merry old London. I remember I would spend hours upon end building an arsenal of guns out of lego bricks, and go shooting around my flat, at these 'things' I could only describe as humanoids. I never told anyone what it was I was shooting at. My mother once asked me about it, but I didn't really know how to reply to it, so I replied how every child of that age would. I was just 'playing', right? At this point in my life, I had only recently moved to London, and started my new school, Emmanuel C of E primary school, in which I didn't have the best time. At school, religion was drummed into me. I had to believe in this thing, that there was no tangeble evidence supporting the fact that it was there. 'God'. But, I digress. I met my first real friend at Emmanuel, his name was Luke. We spent a lot of time together during, and after school. Later on in my first year at said school, I watched Luke die because of a hit and run. Or so I thought, but more on that later. I got into drugs quite early after Luke. I started hanging around the wrong crowds, stealing, smoking cigarettes. This all eventually led into the drug filled mania that befell upon my fragile mind. I was smoking Cannabis by age 10, eventually moving onto harder drugs. At 13, I had been dabbling in the use of Cocaine, Speed, Zombie Dust, and finally Heroin. At 13, I was a full blown junkie. I had moved out of my mother's house, and stayed in a small flat in Hampstead with the 'friends' that had burrowed the use of drugs deep into my mind. This was when I started to see Luke again, I remember it as clear as I remember what I had for dinner last night. I was sat on the pavement, next to where Luke had 'died'. I looked to my left, and there was a vague figure in the distance, that eventually got closer, which made me realise who it was. Now, bare in mind, at this point I didn't believe in anything. I didn't believe in god, or ghosts. In all honesty, I didn't see much past the drugs. Now, as you can imagine, seeing Luke again freaked me out a fair amount. He didn't say much, just one word. "Stop", and as quick as he came down the road, he left quicker. I knew what he meant by it. It was like a weight had been lifted, and in place of that weight, Luke's voice rang in the silence. This was when I cut out of the majority of the drugs in my life. This was also the first time I found myself without a place to stay. I went cold turkey, and I returned to my mother after a month of being on the streets. She was happy to see me, to say the least. It's a shame the happiness didn't last., By 15, I was completely clean of any alcohol, and narcotics. At the age of 16 was when my problems started again. It was also one of the happiest periods of my life.I fell in love, for the first time in my life. With a girl who went by the name of Bethany. We had a lot of happy times, and a lot of unhappy times too. I lost my virginity to her, and she got pregnant, despite the fact she said she was on the pill. We decided to keep this baby. We wanted a boy, and we were going to name him 'Rio'. Unfortunately, Bethany miscarried. This was basically the end for us, as I couldn't handle it. I don't remember much after being told that Rio was gone. I remember look coming back to me, again. And saying two words, this time. "Blind Faith". Those words burnt into me, which led to me getting it tattooed onto my wrist, along with "Rio". After Beth, everything went downhill for me. I was back smoking Cannabis, and drinking more than my liver could handle. At the height of my alcohol addiction, I was drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels a day. I stopped going to school. The voices came back, after being absent for most of mine and Beth's relationship. The nightmares were back, also. Ah yes, the nightmares. Ever since I can remember, I've had a reccuring nightmare in which a charred humanoid turns up at my room in the middle of the night, and chases me out into the street, where I am greeted by more humanoid type creatures. The charred humanoid would then proceed to grab a part of my body, and I would wake up with a mark where the humanoid had grabbed me. Anyway, I proceeded to drop out of secondary school, and stopped drinking as much as I once did. That was hard. The past three years since I have been out of school, I've been arrested, been homeless for almost a year, and I'm still smoking Cannabis recreationaly. I was almost sectioned at one point, before I kicked off and said I would make their lives a living hell if they did. I've been feeling a lot more suicidal these past three years. Numerous attempts. I hate it. I can't carry on writing, something doesn't feel right. I'd like to thank whoever stumbles across this post for reading it, and I'd like to say, feel free to reply, ask questions, or private message me. -David.