Learning from Those Who Hear Voices.
When we learn that someone hears voices, we may assume that this person must be “crazy.” Some people who hear voices have a diagnosis of schizophrenia. Others hear voices because of past trauma or profound depression. Despite their symptoms, many of them cultivate peaceful lives. Their ways of coping can teach the rest of us something about cultivating sanity during times of cruelty and injustice.
When people share with me that they hear voices, I aim to ask as soon as possible, “If the voices suddenly disappeared and never came back, would you miss them?”
A small number of people pause before answering, “Yes.” They want to hear the voices of their parents, friends, and other loved ones again. Sometimes they don’t recognize the voices, but the things they say are hilarious.
Most people, though, offer an emphatic “no!” What they hear are constant attacks on their character (“you’re not worthy of love”), frightening instructions (“go punch that woman”), or unwanted chatter (play-by-play commentary of their lives). In desperate bids to shut the voices up, some people resort to stuffing their ears with cotton, screaming back, or drinking alcohol to drown them out. Sometimes they attempt suicide because they can’t tolerate the torment any longer.
However, many people find ways to manage the voices. They learn that increases in stress—hunger, not enough sleep, drug use—make the voices louder and meaner. While grieving the death of a loved one, the voices are noticeably overwhelming. More stability brings more symptom relief.
People who hear voices often have multiple healthful strategies to manage their voices. They’ve tried things and made discoveries. So when I ask, “What do you do now so the voices bother you less?”, they reply:
“I put on headphones and listen to music.”
“I put on headphones and sing so people think I’m listening to music.”
“I call my family or friends.”
“I go outside for a long walk and look at trees.”
“I go to church and pray to God to make them go away.”
“I find people to talk to.”
“I go to the library and look at maps.”
“I fix bikes with my friends.”
(And, for some people, “Take medicine.”)
While doing these activities, the voices may not go away completely. However, they quiet down enough to be ignored. They are small acts of defiance against despair. Any respite gives them some peace of mind. Furthermore, these activities are self-reinforcing: They improve the quality of their lives in other ways, so they learn to incorporate these activities into their daily routines.
You may not think this post about people hearing voices has anything to offer you. But, if you are seeking more peace of mind right now from things that seem out of your control, we can learn from our friends and neighbors who hear voices.
They, like you, largely do not want to cause problems for themselves or other people. The voices distress them, but they don’t give up in their pursuit for peace and sanity. Instead of waiting for someone else to make the world feel sane, they create their own quiet.
Persisting in the face of adversity reinforces our dignity as people. Maintaining our sanity is a form of resistance. Continuing to do good and refusing to do harm, even just within the limits of the six-foot radius that surrounds each of us, is an act of courage.