? Crazy? Poem by Jamey Davidson

I hear things that aren't there, I think I'm going insane. Things that would freak you out, things you can't explain. Voices that call out for me, saying my name. Should I tell someone, what would I gain? Mental diagnosis's and hundreds of tests on my brain? No thanks I'd rather my family didn't know whatever the circumstance. I'll move on with my life, I always seem to advance. I'm like a high-tech computer, with just a little glitch. One that functions almost normal, it just needs a little stitch. Though I could be very wrong, like an alcoholic in denial. This could all be my imagination that I've been stuck in for awhile. I could be in a mental institute as I am writing. With doctors holding me down, as I am fighting. Ofcourse these could just be ways for my brain to run free. Or to unlock answers in my head, to one day find the key.