Hi there! I’m Sahir. I live in a mental institution. I’m supposedly a ‘psychopath’; well that’s what the people say I am. Although never in my life have I felt any different!
It began with people saying that hearing voices is bad. Yeah well, I hear voices, though I don’t know if any of you don’t. I have been hearing them my whole life. And you know what, I don’t know how I would be able to live without them.
The voices, they guide me, speak to me, pull me out of my loneliness and cheer me up. They have never felt like something bad, they tell me things that my mind never manages to keep track of. They tell me stories that I never knew were possible. Is that bad? Maybe they are strange for other people, people who never had a companion within themselves, but for me, they feel like something natural and something wonderful.
But people didn’t see it as wonderful. When all I wanted was to speak to those within, openly and share my opinions with them, they thought that I was a freak. Maybe yes, I’m a freak, and a loner. Maybe because I prefer to stay away from people, they think of me as an outcast. But hell, who doesn’t stay that way in this world?
However in no way, am I a psychopath. Yeah well, I know; no thief calls himself one. And that’s a fair argument.
However that doesn’t take away from me the right to rebel against what the supposedly normal people think of me.
And you know what, I was like them too. Until the day they saw me as someone else, until the day they realized that talking to myself wasn’t cute anymore, until the day they decided that something was wrong with me.
But was anything actually wrong? Did I hurt anyone? Did I make someone unhappy? Did I make myself unhappy? No. I was happy and I felt all the more normal. I used to talk with myself and laugh with myself, but that was fine. I was fine. I never needed someone else to hold me tight and make me feel safe; the voices did all that.
But others didn’t like that thing, they didn’t like me. And they branded me a psychopath. And once you are cursed, the way people see you, changes.
What was before a random laugh in the middle of the day, capable of making others laugh at your stupidity, became a cause of concern. What was previously cute when you spoke within yourself in third person was no longer acceptable. What they believed to be harmless was restricted for you, forever.
And that’s how your life slowly becomes a living hell. That’s how you become a psychopath.
Was I actually one?
They made me.