The Schizo Report

The Voices,
of Saul's Head

What an exciting week it has been! We, the voices in Saul's head, have been progressing nicely on our task—driving Saul insane.

Monday. We began the week in a fairly restrained manner. Saul believed there were people knocking on his door when there weren’t. When he went down to Berk, we made him believe that people were looking at him, and that the staff were recording and judging how much food he ate. Our efforts from last week paid off: Saul was afraid to drink anything that hadn’t remained continuously in his sight from when he poured it. That is to say, he downed his diet coke every time he got up from the table.

Tuesday. We were foiled Tuesday. Monday night, Saul had a light homework load. Rather than relaxing or spend his time hanging with his friends, Saul elected to take more of his antipsychotics and sleep. We fit a few minor insect hallucinations in, but that's it.

Wednesday. Wednesday! Wednesday was a success. In class, we made Saul believe everyone was looking at him. He sweated through sociology. We also had people scream his name in between classes. At this point, we started to up our ante. We made a goal of full on mania by Friday. We don’t get to do that very often, but we made that call on Wednesday.

Thursday. Thursday was the start of an all out assault. We tricked him into relaxing by easing off till around 5 o’clock. Then the knives came out. We started with the bugs. No matter where he looked, he’d never find the spider crawling on him. It would scurry to his leg, or down his sleeve. Then we worked with hands. They seized his legs, grabbed his back. We made him smell and taste blood (very effective - we’re working on other bodily substances). When he raised his hand to his mouth, it appeared to be briefly covered with blood. At one point, while Saul was sitting down against a wall, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, a pair of cowboy boots kicked him in the face. Again, we made him feel and taste blood. We were truly making progress.

Friday. We didn’t get to do much Friday. Saul called our game. He pumped himself full of antipsychotics and slept through two classes, for twelve hours total. He got a healthy diet and tried to do some exercise. He resembled a zombie from the meds. But he juked us out, and we blew our shot. But you may recall that we said we are progressing nicely. We are. The whole incident was very harrowing for Saul. Sure, he got us in the end, but how many times can he go through this? For how many years? He’s only 21 years old. Schizoaffective has a 15 year life expectancy reduction. That gives us about 55, 60 years to work with. We’ll play the long game.

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