Hallucinations,  Schizoaffective Disorder,  Schizophrenia

What Do My Hallucinations From Schizoaffective Disorder Feel Like?

Katie, a woman with short brown curly hair wearing shorts and a black hoodie, sits on a rock ledge looking out over a pond thinking of life with her hallucinations.

After 13 years of living with schizoaffective disorder, hallucinations are a somewhat normal part of my life. They are neither constant nor always terrifying, but they do occur even with my treatment regimen. Everyone’s experiences are different, but here’s a look into what my visual, auditory, and tactile hallucinations are like.

Do you know when you’re hallucinating?

This is called insight, but it’s not universal to all with psychosis, and it also may come and go. For me, sometimes it’s easy to brush a hallucination off as just a symptom. But at other times there’s a tidal wave-like rush of emotions and my fight or flight instinct has me ready to go, just tell me what direction. In these cases, my thoughts clash. Logic calmly explains that the person made of shadows could not possibly be real. But the ill part of my brain counters, arguing that it is real and I should be afraid because of that rush of fear and first instinct. Even when logic wins, it’s hard to shake the fear.

Visual hallucinations enter my world as if they belong.

Some look as solid and real as you and I. Others appear hazy – almost as if they are made of thick smoke. It may sound odd that I could ever believe a person or animal could look so ghostly but be so real, but that rush of emotion can be so visceral and strong that the haziness doesn’t matter.

My first visual hallucination was early on in my disorder.

I lowered myself to my hands and knees to crawl under a desk and turn off a power strip, but when I looked up I froze. Larger than a normal cat, she sat in front of me, fluffy grey tail gently flicking. She was one of the hazy ones. She looked too real to be a ghost, but I was conscious of the fact that she was not. As she slowly blinked her pale eyes, I was flooded with a sense of calm and comfort that I so desperately needed during that chaotic time when my diagnosis was still being determined. This cat has become an occasional companion, popping into my life at random.

Auditory hallucinations can sound like they come from any source or even no dicernable source at all.

At times, music came from the sky or perhaps just thin air. It can be crystal clear, like when I heard the sound of old-timey music you might find in a saloon, or just vague enough that I can’t put my finger on what song it is. The range of feelings it produces stretches from indifference to annoyance to simmering frustration. Though I have searched for their sources, I have yet to find one.

Then there are the footsteps.

Sitting at my desk, I hear the distinct sound of someone walking up behind me. It’s the gentle sigh of the carpet underneath their feet and the scuff of their soles when they stop near me. Fear shoots through my veins, putting my nerves on high alert. The footsteps may be joined by the rustle of clothing or the jingle of keys in a pocket. Sometimes I don’t look up because, though I know it’s a hallucination, I fear that the sounds will be accompanied by a visual hallucination, though they rarely are. Even when the footsteps don’t feel threatening, if I am alone, I may tell them to go away, leave me alone, you are not real. It doesn’t heal the fear, but it helps me feel more in control of the situation.

The voices I hear don’t fall in line with the stereotype.

They speak in hushed tones and it lights up my nerves. Are they talking about me? Do they know something that I don’t? Are they judging me? Sometimes it rolls off my back and I can let it go. But there are times where I can spin into a frenzy, straining to catch the words they are saying. On some occasions, it’s like a hard shot of anxiety in my chest, positive that I am the topic and not in a good way.

Living in an apartment building, there are times where these voices may in fact be real, which leaves my thoughts wandering in circles trying to determine how I feel. Should I be scared? If they aren’t real, then they are definitely a hallucination. But what if they are real? Am I just reading too much into things?

My tactile hallucinations always occur alone.

I cannot see the beetles that feel as though they are burrowing under my skin. Or the worms in my spine that make me twist and turn. It feels disgusting and violating- they have invaded my body. It always leaves me distressed and squirming in discomfort, often unable to focus on anything else. I want to crawl out of my skin or even out of my body as a whole. I have yet to find a way to make it stop beyond giving it time that always passes excruciatingly slowly.

Then there are things like the soft breath and gentle tickle of whiskers as a cat sniffs the back of my hand. Or the rise and fall of a dog’s chest as it laid against me on my bed. Though always silent, my tactile hallucinations are intricately detailed. When that same cat began to knead my arm, filling me again with that feeling of comfort and safety, I could feel every articulation of her toes. Hallucinations of these kinds radiate calm that rests warmly in my heart. If hope has a physical sensation, this is it.

Everyone’s experiences are different, but here’s what really matters

Hallucinations are an addition to reality that can come in any form and bring any feeling, not just fear. And having positive or atypical hallucinations does not mean someone is any better or worse off than anyone else. But what we all have in common is that our symptoms do not strip us of our humanity. There is so much more to each of us than our symptoms.

For more articles on hallucinations, click here.


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4 Comments

  • Paula

    I love the name of your blog “Not Like the Others.” I always feel that those of us with mental illness are a bit like square pegs trying to fit in a round hole, we are non-fitters. I found this article really enlightening. I have Bipolar 11 and over the years have had many strange experiences that I refer to as hauntings or waking dreaming. They only occur during the depressive phase. Sometimes I think they are unconscious contents that appear to come from outside. Some are plain amusing like my same cat experiences. After visiting someone I would see their cat on the way home, once at a petrol station and once sat in the middle of the road on a country lane. I had to stop the car and wait for it to move. Both times I rang my friends asking if their cat was still there. Luckily none of my friends ever thought there was anything odd about this! They just think I’m just a bit eccentric. Some are more disturbing such as hearing someone breathing next to me in bed, or wispering in my ear “There are five of them, where are they hiding?” I still wonder “Five what?” I also have smells manifesting, doors opening and closing, strange noises going on for weeks at a time, bits of music and phones ringing. When asked by Doctors if I have hallucinations, I’ve replied that it depends whether or not you believe in ghosts. For some of us these experinces are quite normal, sometimes comforting, sometimes beautiful and sometimes a bit disturbing.

  • Katie

    Thank you so much for reading my article and for sharing your experiences too! I completely agree about them sometimes being the contents of our minds. There are many times where it feels like my brain has taken my thoughts and feelings and projected them into the outside world. I love your cat experiences too. And your last sentence sums it all up so well!

  • Chris

    You articulate very well. Your words flow with a sense of direction that invoke emotions and responsiveness. Have you written a book? I would very much like to read one by you. I have lived with my illness for 25 years and you seem to be well along in your coping with illness and successful mental health management. I am very impressed with your dignity and grace with communication. Thank you for sharing.
    I have Schizoaffective disorder Bipolar type and intend to follow a similar direction as you have developed here but more so in a literary form. Currently I am finishing my degree but 2022 will see the beginning of my endeavor to help others with illness and also those without understand more about surviving the intricacies of such complex disability, or rather challenge. You seem to have met yours with keen intelligence and subtle openness to accepting the challenge. I hope this comment finds you in wellness and wish that you never fail to encourage and inform as you have here.

  • Katie

    Thank you so much, Chris!
    You are very articulate as well! I have not written a book yet, but others have been encouraging me to do so.
    I’m excited to hear that you intend to help others with and without illnesses! The world needs more advocates like yourself. Best of luck finsihing your degree and beginning this new endeavor! I would love to hear more about it once you get started!

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