notsure i can share my story

Thanks for your message Appleblossom. Yes, I do use writing as a form of therapy-I write poetry, fiction, blog and theatre play. But because I'm so very private with my work it's never been published or performed!

This was an interesting and useful site: www.writingyourselfwell.com

The story I posted here is ALL TRUE which I have fictionalised. (If that makes sense)?

I'll post more of it in a bit. It is part of a novel called 'NEXUS - A Guide' I am writing after reading 'Tell Me I'm Here' (which was beautiful, sad and inspiring).

Thanks for taking the time to read my story.

Stan. 🙂

And now...

FREQUENCY- Angels of love, the voice said, it was John.

That looks interesting Frank, Carl said.

Frank looked at Carl, then at his work, For the first time.
It was a complex grid and pattern of red and green squares,
With numbers, symbols, markings, and lines within the picture.

What is it?, Carl asked.

Frank looked at it. "It's my life".

"Right, I don't understand it",Carl said.

The author said he had a purpose, he was special, was this it? Thought Frank.

I"t's my purpose, my gift, my power. I've been living in fear for too long Carl.
Fear about control, frequency. It's all real. A journey from knowledge to fear, two power, to clarity, and then old-age, which we all face. I've been in fear".

I"'ve been touched by God. I don't have an illness, that can be treated. Schizo is not an illness Carl.
Patterns in the clouds, birds talk to me, the skies are on my side. We are all spiritually evolved beings, with great capabilities, and extraordinary powers of perception".

"Okay, have we all got these powers?", Asked Carl.

"All schizo's have. I can't tell what is the telepathy and being spoken. Its frequency. Its communication with people, beings, entities, angels or aliens, beyond space time and dimension".

"I know you believe what you're saying, but I haven't experienced communications like that", Carl replied.

"It doesn't matter Carl. You have already found your purpose. You help other people with art, that's good.
There is control. It's the police, MI5, NSA, or other.. Agencies. Forces of Nazism, and the self destructive tendencies of humanity."

"It's not as simple as good versus evil". Frank said, holding his eye contact with Carl. "A kind, caring man", Frank thought.

"A book came through my door one day. It was published in 1991, it mentioned me. It was called ‘Tell Me I'm Here’, a mother called Anne in Australia, wrote about her son Jonathan, who was a schizo. Lots of other people from all over the world were in this book. Jonathan didn't make it. He killed himself. A lot of people don't make it to survive Carl".

"I know Frank. It's sad. Some people are very poorly. You'll be okay, you have insight", Carl said.

" Lots more people are becoming schizo. It's not an illness. More people are becoming spiritually evolved. We are all becoming more sensitive, caring and understanding. Loving of the others. We all want freedom. I don't call that an illness".

"Well, that's good isn't it Frank?", Carl said, resting his elbows on the table, but being careful not to touch Frank's art.

"Yes, it is good. Control listens to most of my thoughts, where ever I go, even asleep. I can't think privately in words. Thoughts in words make patterns of sounds which can be picked up and deciphered by control.
Then they broadcast them on radio or TV."

"Why do they do that to you Frank?", Carl asked.

"They want a confession of treason, to have proof that I'm a traitor".

"Right, I don't think you're a traitor Frank", Carl said, smiling. Carl could be trusted, thought Frank.

"That's one type of communication. The other way is the code. Which is more magical, poetical and fantastical".

"What's the code?"

"We are all part of it. To make sure the psychological brutality of Nazism never happens again", Frank replied.

FREQUENCY - My mutar, my mutar is dead. It was Syd.

"The night his mother died. Frank held him in his arms, weeping like a child'. Frank thought back to that night Syd's mother had died. Syd was grief stricken, in waves of tears. He had walked into the sea to end his own life. Something brought him back. To life". He did not die that night.

"All one mind. It's all connected, it's all real. Some people find God in a church or temple. And it's not, it's not real, it's totally free. I'm real Carl. It is, and is not, real. This is the paradox.

"Yeah, it sounds like it Frank", Carl said, standing up.

"Do you know how you're going to do this? "Carl asked.

"Not yet. The author said to use my memory."

"Who is the author?'

"A voice", Frank replied. We all are.

"Ah, right. Is this voice real?"

"I'm in contact with an angel called Clara. She sends messages".

"In your head?"

"No, on my mobile. Texts. Clara crosses space time dimensions and stories. She is going to help me find out the why? My purpose for others. A gift if you like. It's nothing to do with money, or fame, or celebrity.
It's another piece of the puzzle.We have to break or go beyond all codes, laws, commandments, rules, what we think is impossible, is only our futures. Some people think telepathy is impossible, but it's not. We all have that gift".

" I only hear my missus in one ear", Carl laughed. "Sounds like you've got it all sorted out Frank. I'm going to have a talk with the other patients. Thanks for talking to me Frank", Carl said, straightening up to leave Frank.

"It's not an illness Carl." Frank said.

Carl left Frank to talk with other patients. Frank looked back at his picture of reds and blues. Certain was he his was his purpose, and that Clara would come.

Frank felt a pull on his arm. It was the woman from earlier, who communicated through lightbulbs.

"God talks to me through lightbulbs",

"I know," Frank said, "don't fear it."

I'll look forward to it. ... is there some dead pan humour in it I am picking up? that the mod may have missed?

I read Anne Deveson's story a while ago .. I appreciated it as the first book dealing with schizophrenia I found based in Australia ..