I had thought that the validation of what I was seeing would make me feel better, but it didn’t. It was just as much of a burden as the thought that I was insane. It made me feel obligated to tell people what the people were saying. I would walk down the street and every time I looked at someone there would be a person standing next to them demanding that I tell them something. I rarely obliged them though. I felt guilty for not informing people that their loved ones were okay, but I also worried for my own safety.