I have schizophrenia and have heard voices since I was a child. A new medication has finally helped with my symptoms.

• Lynn Fullen said she heard strange voices in her head when she was a child.
• The voices went away. But they returned in her 40s and she was diagnosed with schizophrenia.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lyn Fullen. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Playing with my Barbie doll when I was around age 5, I wondered which outfit to dress her in. "I want to wear my blue shirt today," Barbie said.

There's nothing unusual about kids having imaginary friends or "conversing" with their toys, but things were different for me. The sound of Barbie's voice was deep inside my head — it felt like she was whispering in my ear. Nobody else could hear her. "Let's have another tea party," she said.

My mom had warned me that hearing voices was hereditary in our family. "Be nice to them — and they'll be nice back," she told me. She explained that she'd heard voices herself. A lot of them were dead relatives, she said; people including my late grandmother.

"Don't antagonize her and she'll treat you well," Mom said.

It was scary, and Mom's insistence that I didn't tell anybody else about it made it worse. "People will think you're crazy, and you'll be locked up," she said. After a while, I learned not to even mention it to her.

"I'm not interested," she'd say. "I don't want to hear about it." She was too busy dealing with the voices in her own head.

Kids at school thought I was creepy and would run away from me

I also had visions. They seemed real at the time. I saw paranormal activity around the house. One night, when nobody was there, I screamed because a drawer slid out of a cabinet in the kitchen and the silverware dropped all over the floor. Other times, I could hear people knocking on the walls to get my attention.

I lived with the voices all the way through grade school — there was constant chitchat. It was difficult to focus in the classroom.

It got in the way of my attempts at socializing with other children. I'd have episodes when I had to stop what I was doing and start talking to whatever voice was in my head. They'd think I was creepy and run away.

One time, my teacher brought in my mother to talk to her about my behavior. But it was clearly up to Mom to do something about it — she didn't. "Keep quiet," she'd say.

Then, when I was 13, the voices went away. "I'm here to take care of her, and nobody is going into her mind, or they'll have to deal with me," I heard one last voice say. "She's going to have normal teenage years from now on."

I led a regular life after that. I had jobs, boyfriends, and got married in 1986 when I was 29. But the voices came back 13 years later. I fell to pieces when I started hearing them again. I thought I was going to have to go through what I did in childhood. I know how the voices take you over — they ruin your life.

They were never evil voices. I saw people on TV such as David Berkowitz, the Son of Sam killer, that said they heard evil voices telling them to kill people. In fact, the voices I heard would tell me to look after myself, especially when I got divorced in my early 40s.

They were there every day, and they'd wake me up at night. I tried to act normal around people. At work, I trained myself to go into the back storage room and talk out loud for a couple of minutes. "I'm trying to work," I'd say. "Leave me alone." But they said they weren't bothering me, and that they were my friends.

I finally contacted a psychiatrist. I felt like I couldn't deal with it anymore, and I knew there was something wrong that I had to take care of. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia.

The doctors put me on some heavy-duty drugs — I felt like a zombie. I couldn't get out of bed some days. I couldn't do something as simple as painting my nails. The years went by, and I started to have suicidal thoughts.

Now I can see the difference between fantasy and reality

I'd struggled to find the right treatment for so long I didn't hold out much hope when my nurse practitioner tried me on a new drug called Lybalvi. It was approved by the US Food and Drug Administration in 2021. I took it for the first time six months ago.

It felt like Christmas Day. I have more perspective on my condition. I can see the difference between fantasy and reality. I still hear voices from time to time, but when it happens, I ignore them. I know what they're saying isn't true.

I'm now remarried, and my husband, Bob, has been supportive. When we do everyday things together — such as taking long drives to Walmart — I can look out the car window and enjoy what I see. I'm no longer stuck inside myself.

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