[ WP ] You are a schizophrenic maddeningly in love with the man/woman of your dreams . But you 're becoming increasingly unsure if she 's real , or just another hallucination .

I had been lonely, and she had been there. 
 
 She was my best friend at the time, Jen, but she was manipulative, using me for attention, and nothing more. But that Jen was gone. 
 
 The only one left was the one in my head. Tulpa-Jen, it seemed so rational at the time. Of course, in those maddened dark days, everything seemed rational. Cracking open peach pits to get at the cores seemed rational. Saving up apple seeds just in case seemed rational. Creating a mental double of the girl I had loved, loved, so dearly loved and yet was rejected by, seemed so very rational indeed. 
 
 At night, she would come and visit me. I loved her for it. The real Jen was vindictive, petty, an emotional vampire, but surely the Jen of the mind could n't become like that. She lived only in my imagination, of course. Still, I had fun with her. A million conversations, rapture, heavenly bliss, bliss and tranquility. 
 
 I began to feel tired more often than usual though. Slept more hours than I was awake, lived more in the dream than in reality. She was beautiful, and better yet, she was mine. She could never betray me, could she? She was only a dream-form, something of flash but no substance. 
 
 But there came a time when I started to doubt it. Tulpa-Jen, she began to resemble her real version more and more. The arguments slipped into my dreams. The mockery of the real Jen twisted itself into my head, and I internalized it, I guess. 
 
 She began to ask why I did n't spend more time with her. Worse still, when I found a woman who enjoyed spending time with me in my waking hours, she awoke in daylight. Mocking, and berating, she told me that no one could ever love me the way she did. 
 
 I felt drained. And so I inadvertently ended up pushing away many of the girls I could have loved, would have loved, if fate and the Tulpa had allowed it. I was constantly tired now. 
 
 On the eve of Christmas, I realized I was sleeping more than I was awake. Twenty hours in the dream-world, four in the real one. My health was declining. I was emaciated, my eyes sunken in my skull like a junkie. 
 
 She had become more real than I thought she was. And she was eating me alive.
