Here is a story about one of my most recent psychotic episodes:
I was sitting in class, driffting off, when about five or six of the devil's minions came busting into the classroom (they're about three feet tall and have brown skin, yellow eyes, and horns). They started dancing in a circle around me saying wierd shit in this raspy voice. They told me that using drugs was an unforgiveable sin, and that my name was on the list for eternal damnation. They also told me that I could make a deal with the devil to get off of this list. They said I had to sacrifice the girl sitting in front of me with they holy artifact. When I asked what the holy artifact was, my pocket began to vibrate. I pulled out the vibrating object which was a pencil. I was about to do it when they told me that I couldn't do it now because god was watching. So I waited all day for them to come back but they never did. When I got home, I told my mom about it and she proceeded to check me into ridgeview (thats a treatment center here in atlanta).
When I got into ridgeview my hallucinations/delusions persisted. I kept seeing this boy in red hair walk aimlessly around the cottage. Then a few days after I checked in I sat down at a table to be alone. Then, lo and behold, god sits down across from me (he looked exactly the way god is portrayed on family guy except he wasn't a cartoon). He told me that he knew the devil had sent his minions to me to persuade me to make the deal. He thanked and commended me for not going through with it. He also gave me a gift: the power of superhuman hearing. From that day on I could hear everything everybody was saying. They were all saying things like: "did you hear? Scott has the power. We should kill him and take it." So I spent a day or two freaking out, thinking someone is going to kill me. Then one afternoon a fellow patient comes up to me to ask me if I wanted to play skipbo (I didn't know this at the time of course). I punched him in the face before he could say anything to me. The monitors all tackled me, gave me a thorazine shot, and strapped me down in the quiet room. After this escapade a psychologist came and tested me with those ink blob cards and such. He diagnosed me with schizo-effective disorder.
Psychotic episodes are very scary. They don't just start all at once. They start out small and snowball into something big. This slight mental decline goes unnoticed by the person experiencing it. Everything that you see, hear, smell, think seems very real. You never stop to think that this could all be an illusion(at least more of an illusion than the physical world is). Here is a way I could describe it for people that don't have it: Its like tripping on acid, but not having the comfort of knowing that the reason everything is so fucked is because you ate acid. So there you go. And remember: don't cry for the man in the crack of the pavement, for he has no soul.