Last post I wrote about trying to keep the chaos together.

Then, suddenly, the world stopped.

Every word I heard uttered was about me. All, that I was a monstrous person. I deserved to die.

At the time I was living interstate. Terrified I called the only person I thought had a chance of helping me. Mum. I called from a public phone. My mobile was being bugged.

‘Are you OK?’ Mum asked.

‘How do I know it’s you?’

‘What do you mean ‘How do I know it’s you’?’

‘How do I know?!’

‘What do you mean?!’

‘What are you wearing?’

‘You know, that blue skirt with the flowers.’

‘What top?’

‘The white shirt. You know. Are you OK?’

‘They’re after me.’

‘What do you mean? Where are you?

You don’t need to know that.’

‘What are you saying? I’m flying to meet you!’

‘How will I know it’s you?’

‘What do you mean? You know who I am. Look I’m coming. I’ll call you later.’

‘No. I’ll call you back.’

‘OK. I’m going to call the airline. Call me back and I’ll let you know the details. What are you going to do now?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Please tell me…’

‘I’ll call you back.’

‘Look, why don’t you think it’s me? Tell me please.’

‘I think they’re splicing your words.’

‘Splicing?’

‘They’ve got recordings of your voice and they’re cutting it and splicing it together, so that I think it’s really you. I DON’T THINK IT’S REALLY YOU!’

Suddenly a message flashed across the screen of the public phone and it went dead. Obviously They had tracked me, and maybe had spliced mum’s voice.

This was the beginning of my free fall. It was the end of my life as I had known it.

As many as 3 in 100 people will experience a psychotic episode and BetterHealth explains psychosis, causes, diagnosis and treatment.