Escaping a Fire With My Mom

I picked up a book from a bookstore and this book was the craziest book. Crazy like this blog will surely be. This book was called Fire Burn. A witch book. Mehawhaw. I’m a witch! Or am I? I was. I’m not now. Witchy. That’s what I thought caused my schizoaffective disorder. Schizophrenia and bipolar combined. Not so much my own witchcraft. Many of my friends love witchy-bitchy-oh-look-at-me vibrations. Hoodoo-voodoo-oh-my-God-none-of-it-is-real. I really thought that my friends were cursing me. This was based on the Instagram profiles. But witchcraft isn't real. What is real? God. God is, but I thought I was Venus incarnate back in the winter of 2019. This was before I was diagnosed later in the year.. The bad voices sang. “Surrender murder of Venus hold her down, like I’m giving lessons in physics.” Parody of Iggy Azaela’s Hhit Song. Or misheard lyrics. Why doesn’t anybody like Iggy? I love getting jiggy with Iggy. I don't know if she is a shit person. I only like her songs. Itt’s was 8 O’clock in the morning on October 6, 1993. Three earlier, my older sister almost strangled herself with her umbilical cord during birth. That was the only thing she ever messed up on in her whole life. Emergency c-section. And so I just had to copy her, as I did most of my childhood. What was playing that had everybody in the room laughing? The song. It was "Devil in Disguise" by Elvis Presley. The doctor said, “She’s going to be a handful.” Yes. I am. And I wish this song never happened as they took me out of good ole Ma. My main schizo voice says, “God must not love you. You must be evil.” No. I’m not devil sent. I just don’t like Emily Jacobs dissing me. Why she picked this name? I don’t know. It is a boring name for the archvillains. That’s why I’m medicated. I was at an eating disorder facility at the end of 2019. I wrote with my characters in a hammock. We called it the Hammock Hangout. All of my characters loved me, except for one. That gosh darn Emily Jacobs. She called herself Victrola sometimes. Her pop star name. She was a ghost I met at Timberline Knolls. This was a shitty residential mental hospital for all women. This was a third of the way through 2019. She liked my celebrity crush. Uh oh. I was talking to this celebrity in my head. Emily introduced herself and never left. She told me she was my dreamweaver- her ghost job. She wouldn’t put me to sleep, and when she did, it was nightmares. During the hammock days, all the ghosts became characters. I would run around saying, "My characters and I are writing the best superhero book. We’re the new Marvel.” Long story short, you shouldn’t talk to your characters in your head. My mom does not hear voices, but she is an exquisite storyteller. One of her favorite stories happened when she was lying down in her hospital room after birthing me. It was fire prevention week. An alarm went off. She thought the place was on fire. She grabbed me and tried jumping out a window. A nurse told her to go back to bed. She called my uncle and said, “Maggie and Mike are in the elevator and there’s a fire.” Maggie: sister. Mike: dad. Tall tales. When my schizoaffective turned me against my family 25 years later, I kept saying that my mom was Big Fish without a happy ending. Big Fish is a Ewen MAcgregor flick where the father tells tales. *SPOILER ALERT* *I MEAN IT* *GO* At the end of the movie, he meets all the characters from his dad’s stories. I want to die before her, because I cannot imagine life without her. If I have to be at her funeral, I hope I’ll meet people who confirm her stories. We’re now as good as the day she called my uncle in a burning hospital. A little chaotic but partners in crime. My uncle showed up. My mom figured out by then that it was an alarm. She was eating tapioca pudding. “Sorry,” she said to him. And so it’s been Fire Burn from the beginning. Fire burn in my legs. My long legs with my pants ripped off. Broken. All because I was hit by a train 11 days after my 27th birthday. Fire burn, fire burn. This is my life now. With voices. It is a positive fire inside me that doesn't stop burning. God has made this so. I'm a miracle. Therefore, I will tell my story for Him. Stay tuned. I post every Thursday.