By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
I have experienced the absolute worst symptoms of schizophrenia in my life—the most dangerous, and the most severe. The reality of this condition can hardly be captured in a simulation video of a schizophrenia patient, nor in the story of a famous personality living with it. No one precisely knows what takes place within the hidden depths of schizophrenia except someone who has truly lived through it and possesses the ability to articulate it.
I still do not believe that everything in schizophrenia occurs strictly within the mind; I believe there are spiritual underlying causes. To feel as though I am in an interrogation room, with multiple people constantly speaking to me with uncanny realism; to acquire a realm of spirits originating from human beings or unseen entities; and to have human spirits speak to me with malice.
To drown there, at the very bottom of schizophrenia, amidst deeply sick thoughts, in another world entirely. To begin reading the thoughts of people around me, feeling the mental activity of all human beings with a superhuman intensity. To start feeling sensations inside my brain—pinpricks of pain at specific points in my head whenever I live through a agonizing experience or thought that my mind attempts to block from me.
To witness the behavior of animals around me alter in ways I had never known prior to my illness: dogs assembling themselves into large packs right beside my house, initiating a horrifying collective barking; birds coming to my window as if to greet me; a dove producing sounds that instill deep comfort and positivity within my soul; and the crowing of the rooster at dawn morphing into the sounds of the call to prayer and Islamic words.
To have all these auditory effects play out beforehand inside my mind before they physically transpire in real time. To feel the notifications for my phone messages and voice calls—as well as those of the people around me—in advance. To dream of a few Facebook notifications, only to wake up in the morning and find them actually there.
To listen to the conversations of distant people as they command me and laugh, with the echoes of their private dialogues about me reverberating inside my head. It felt as though spiritual sessions were being conducted by groups right outside my window, directed at me in a demonic gathering. In moments of pure madness, I used to believe that these people, speaking in multiple languages, were addressing me specifically—until I merged entirely with that delusion.
Worse than these terrifying, maddening symptoms was losing my mind and my natural way of thinking—to sink into illness alongside what was happening, to lose the ability to judge when to ask for help, and, being in such a severe state of madness, to stubbornly persist in refusing to take my psychiatric medications.
It is a deeply exhausting experience, accompanied by severe headaches and an inability to sleep for days on end. I still find it difficult to comprehend that all these harrowing experiences are occurring within my mind alone, and that they stem from an internal dysfunction rather than reality. Every time a relapse occurs due to chronic schizophrenia, I go through new psychotic episodes. I have likely passed through such states nearly six times.
Those airplanes in the sky move according to my mental and psychological state. In many instances, that auditory simulation system in the sky is somehow linked to me; in fact, it is programmed to connect with my mind and with everything taking place in my life. That interactive program for the planes—if they are indeed human aircraft to begin with—was configured by the Israeli state to hook me into it as a core component.
Whether they are airplanes, spacecraft, or something akin to the movement of angels, demons, or deities in the sky, they have been telling me they are not planes ever since we came to know each other during my adolescence. Not a single human being speaks to me about them, and no one has ever revealed their true nature to me. I am not an agent, nor do I actively participate in any intelligence activities or secret groups. I simply communicate with these planes and with a vast array of spirits—done entirely in secret, right within my mind.
Looking closely at the matter of the planes, I do not believe for a second that I am mistaken on this point, nor do I think there is any confusion or delusion in my mind regarding my feelings toward them. Originally, I saw this plane project in my imagination as a child between the ages of 6 and 8—roughly between 1999 and 2002—perhaps before humans had ever created anything like these planes, when the internet was in its infancy, and smart phones likely didn’t even exist yet.
I saw in my dreams that I was an important person: I met with officers from the Israel Defense Forces while I was sick in the hospital, and they had come to visit me. I was always contemplating the sky, and I had many similar dreams throughout my childhood.
Allow me to also admit that I was a very sick child. I suffered from abnormal, pathological shyness, severe fears, and a constant sense of detachment from the world. When I look back on my childhood memories, examining my actions, my conversations, and that strange feeling that used to overcome me—a feeling akin to bewilderment or hyper-awareness of everything, along with the distinct nature of my thoughts and psyche—I realize that I was a sick child, and no one knew it but me.
There is a mystery enveloping my life; this seems glaringly obvious to me. What happens is not a matter of mere coincidence—whether it concerns the synchronicities, the spiritual and painful experiences I have endured, the relentless challenges, my expanding consciousness, or my experience of embodying illogical thoughts and personas from another world. The nature of my upbringing, my thoughts, my mental movement, and my continuous state of awareness, maturity, and constant transformation make me feel that I am no ordinary human being. Although I appear ordinary on the outside, it seems a higher power is pursuing me and shaping the trajectory of my life.
Furthermore, the nature of being a persecuted child who was constantly bullied by others through abnormal, recurring reactions, along with the pain I faced throughout all stages of my childhood, places me directly in the crosshairs of a predetermined, higher destiny. It is as if a spell was written for me before I even entered this life, causing my existence to unfold with this profound harmony of strangeness, illness, pain, and awareness of such elevated mysteries.
I would also like to point to the deep-seated fear that has controlled me for a very long time, seeping deep into my subconscious. This fear was the impetus for my rebellion against it and my escape from its suppression in intense moments of turmoil and madness—driven by a desire to triumph over it at the very peak of my suffering. Despite all of this, there seems to be something remarkably strange about my life and this world. I am not merely an incidental case or a natural phenomenon; there must be a great secret and profound wisdom behind it all.
