It began when I started freelancing full-time on the Internet. I thought I could hear people talking about me, and I thought it was the neighbors gossiping because I seldom left the house, that they thought I was just a lazy bum. Then I started hearing voices everywhere I went, and thought people were talking about me and laughing at the way I looked and dressed.
One night I came home and my room smelt like garbage. Except only I could smell it. And only I could hear the neighbors singing kareoke and cursing me between songs for stinking up the entire neighborhood. The next day I cleaned my room. And the day after that. Every day I wiped every surface I could reach with rubbing alcohol, but it wasn't enough for the voices. I ended up emptying my room of furniture and stuff, trying to find the source of the stench that I believed was spreading from the room. I washed clothes and bedding that I hadn't used, thinking they smelled of garbage. I hauled my bed cushion out into the hallway and tried to sleep on the bare board that remained.
My dad by that time knew something was wrong, but it didn't occur to any of us that I was sick. Then my psychosis escalated. Today I can recall every delusion I experienced in the weeks that followed, and I recognize how impossible they were, but at the time they happened they were completely real and logical to me. I won't recount all of them here - you're probably already bored with me as it is. I'll just say I believed for many days that the whole neighborhood wanted to kill me, that my dad and everyone else in the house was a demon, and that the Apocalyse had already occurred and I was the cause. The voices were non
Finally my dad and his housekeeper took me to a mental institution, where a shrink prescribed medication. The first meds only made me sleep long hours, but the next drug they tried broke through the psychosis. I've been on the same medicine since, and the voices are completely gone. I already had an idea what my illness was from researching online, but I only confirmed months later from my psychiatrist that I was a paranoid schizophrenic. Until I actually asked him it was just "my condition".