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  • I used to be friends with my hallucinations. They used to be minor. Like colours in written texts. Speech that materialised as thick smoke in front of my eyes. Reality appearing as layers of plastic, glass, concrete. Minor incidences really. Hallucinations were always a phenomenon of hypomania and a pleasant surprise for my overactive mind.
    Delusions have never been pleasant. They came during dark and depressive episodes, and closed me off from the world. Telling me that my presence in the world was destructive, that the globe was slowly crumbling away in our hands, or that I has to solve the puzzle of the arrangements of goods in the supermarket to get to key.
    Lately, hallucinations have been mixing up with delusions, and I find myself slipping back towards my safe place, my partner. He helps me seeing what is real and what is not, when I am lost in labyrinth of glass, concrete, and plastic that often make up my reality.
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