Ack Bats.

One of the more interesting symptoms of my mental illness is that I have hallucinations.

Well, had—my meds were finally adjusted to keep those in check.

But the interesting thing about them was that they were…just like, bats.

Bats.

They didn’t really do much besides… well, be bats. They just hung around. Everywhere. Sometimes one would get too close to my face and I’d flinch. Try explaining that to Joe Passerby.

Adjusting to life without the bats was strange. I’d gotten to a point where I couldn’t remember life without bats. But they went, and I was free.

Peripheral vision was suddenly actually something useful, at least.