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Horrifying True Schizophrenia Story


It really gave me the creeps, and to know that someone has to go through this EVERY DAY is horrifying.

Just to a note: this story isn’t meant for entertainment, this is a real event, that happened to a real person. 

I hope that through this story you will realize how horrifying this mental disorder can be, and how it should be taken seriously. 

WARNING: material you are about to see contains terrifying pictures of what the person sees

**

There is a dog. It started following me around campus my freshman year at my university where I studied design (specifically fine art and illustration). I’d see it around the corners of buildings, or from a distance. That first semester it just got closer. The first weeks I didn’t think it was there, or couldn’t really see it. But it got closer. It’d follow me.

Now the dog isn’t really there my doctor says. No dogs are there. The dog is about the size of a small-medium schnauzer. Its got black fur, and someone has skinned its face and head. The skin hangs in wet gloppy dangly strips around its neck. It can’t blink, and I don’t know how it eats without lips. It stares at me and other people with those bulging exposed eyeballs and licks it’s twitchy sinewy snout.

I’d feel bad for it if it weren’t for the hands. The dog doesn’t have paws. Not a single paw. It just has four human hands for feet. Even if I can ignore it and not look at it (like my doctor says to do) I can still hear the slappingpat-pat-pat noise of those hands as it trots along beside me through the tiled halls.

I crawl up high into my loft bed to escape it, but it paces. All night I hear the pat-pat-pat of those hands.

Sometimes it looks at me with those terrible eyes and I swear to god it looks like it wants to talk. At night it’d move its mouth when I looked down from my loft. Like talking. But the dog has never made a sound, except for the pat-pat-pat of its hands. It doesn’t cry like an injured dog would, and it doesn’t bark. I still think it has something to say. I don’t know why it follows me.

Nobody else sees or hears it, so maybe it just has something to say to me. But in those cold, dark, lonely moments when I’m alone with it and it’s moving its silent mutilated mouth I feel a great fear. I do not want to know what it has to say to me. I really wish it’d go away.


My psychiatrist said we’re going to do a different medication since the seroquel xr doesn’t keep the dog away. I just hope the new meds don’t open its voice.

---
by reddit user haveadog

Comments

Samuel M. said…
Hey, do you know if haveadog is doing all right? They seem to have dropped off the face of reddit/tumblr a couple years ago. I'm kinda worried.
May 12, 2016 at 12:49 PM
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