I take people for granted

I remember being a kid and riding up to see my aunt and cousins. Other family members would fly in from all over to be with us for thanksgiving. It seemed perfect. We would all sit and eat, buy most of the time was spent laughing. We laughed, told stories, and played games for hours. It seemed like everyone was so happy and everything was so perfect. Evem after my mom died we all still met. It wasn't the same without her but it was still good.
After my dad remarried I didnt get to see my family as much. I only ever get to see my step moms family now. That is mainly why I don't go home anymore. I can't handle the drama and all that comes with her family. I'm not related to those people. If I cared maybe it wouldn't ve so bad, but they aren't my family. If it were my family I would be alright. They aren't though and we don't get along so I usually go to my bestfriend's for Thanksgiving.
It seems like I met all of her family in the past 3 days. I tried to stay out of the way because I feel uncomfortable around too many new people. I also didn't want to be in the way. They are her family and I didn't want to interrupt anything. It made me missy family though. I wish I could go back home to my family but because of my step mom they don't invite us anymore. I'd rather it not be that way, but for the sake of politeness I suppose I have no option. Long story short, don't take your family for granted because you never know when someone will try to take them away.
         Love, a schizophrenic.

Wait...It isn't Friday yet?

  Seriously though...shouldn't it be Friday by now? That should tell you how my week is going. I guess in all actuality it has been a great week. My what ever is going on with my body is getting better it seems. The lymph nodes are going down by like 95%, but are still sore. I think the medicine just took longer than planned to work. Thank God it is working though. I also got some good news about health insurance. I found a plan that helps me with psych ward hospitalizations which is what I am more concerned with. Also, one of my education professors told me that she could see me being a teacher. That's good because that is kinda my goal right now. My friend I mentioned in the last post ended up getting the solo, but I think  was more excited than he was. So all in all, everything is good. I'm just tired and ready for thanksgiving break.
  Now to more topics I prefer to talk about on my blog...
  Earlier I was skimming through Facebook and found something about creepy abandoned places. Naturally, my mind went to old schools, hotels, and amusement parks. That was what I got for the most part. Then, I got to an old insane asylum. I wasn't offended by this because the picture did look pretty creepy whether it was an asylum or not. What got me was how many times I've clicked on things similar to this and there is usually 1 abandoned asylum if not more. They are always described as being creepy, melancholy, and haunted by patients and faculty. There is usually some story about why the building was built the way it was, because we all know that mental illness is contagious, or about why it was shut down. I found myself wondering why it is that people find asylums in particular so frightening. I guess they let their Hollywood filled imaginations run wild about who used to be there and for what. I can't be mad a people for that, but I am a little saddened by it. We shouldn't be afraid of people with mental illnesses. I've overheard people on my college campus talking about how frightening it must be to live with someone who has a diagnosed mental illness. I've even had friends mention it to me. That is usually when I lovingly tell them that what they believe is stupid. Then, naturally, the attempt an argument. I usually win these with "My proof is I'm am schizophrenic. What is your proof?" If they have anything to say by this point, it is usually something along the lines of "Wow. I had no idea. I couldn't even tell." Well, how would you be able to tell? What if I sat rocking in a corner repeating the same thing over and over? Would you be able to tell then? Every once in a long while, I come across the idiot who is dumb enough to actually try and give me proof. The best part? The answer always starts with, "In this movie I saw once..."
  Anyway, my point is similar to the majority of my post. EDUCATE YOURSELVES! Read a book, talk to someone with experience, read an article on a trusted website, or go on YouTube. Several people with mental illness make videos to help others understand. Just find some reliable source and until you do...shut up. Don't let the dumb escape. That might actually be contagious...I try not to be rude most of the time, but today I decided that I don't care. Goodbye.
                                                                 Love, a schizophrenic

recording day 2

Day two of recording went pretty well I think. We got to do 2 of my favorite things: sleep in and make music. I wouldn't have life any other way. My reeds are shot though and I need to order another box soon. I don't really have much to say except that soooooooo good night.
                                                      Love, a schizophrenic

recording day 1

  Normally on weekends I watch some football (go heels!) and then play in a church on Sunday with symphonic band. This weekend we started recording for our Christmas CD. We did songs with our rhythm section today. Tomorrow will be concert pieces and vocal team will record later...and we get free food.

  It went well I thought. The only thing that I wasn't so fond of was when our director gave the bassoon player a tenor saxophone solo. Our bassoonist is a jazz saxophonist, but it still didn't seem fair to me that he would take a solo that the tenor sax player had prepared and worked on. I was pretty made about that and also the fact that he didn't even ask to hear me play it. I was pretty upset as was the other tenor player. I understand that the director wants to do what sounds best, but he could have at least told us that is what was going to happen instead of just giving the solo to someone WHO DOESN'T EVEN PLAY IN THAT PIECE! Maybe if he had told us in advance I wouldn't be as upset, but I'd still probably be pretty upset. That just isn't okay. 

  As far as my health goes, I think I mentioned this last time, I'm still kinda sick. The medicine I was on only made 1 lymph node go down and the one behind my jaw managed to get larger while I was taking it. It got large enough that it started to hurt when I tried to turn my head in either direction. I'm still bleeding a bit but not as much today. A couple days ago it was pretty bad. I haven't bled from my gums or lips any so that is a plus. I feel tired a bit but I think that just may be because I'm bleeding and anemic. I also am having a hard time staying hydrated. I have to drink like 600 bottle of water a minute. (That definitely wasn't an exaggeration and this definitely isn't sarcasm) My doctor wanted me to wait 2 more weeks to go it, but I think I may call in Monday and talk to them. 

  I also found out about what happened in France. This world is sick. Something in peoples minds and hearts is getting twisted. I wonder if the people that did that knew they would end up there since they were a child or if they wanted to be doctors or teachers. I wonder what happened, what went wrong, and where? I would like to say that I can't imagine the kinda of hatred that it takes to do something like that. Unfortunately, I think I can though. I used to hate my step brother. I even tried to stab him. I fought him several times. If I weren't a Christian at the time and fighting this battle inside myself, I probably would have killed him and been all too happy about it. Everyday I faced that battle inside of who I wanted to follow. I wanted to hate him so bad, but I knew because I had Jesus in me that I shouldn't. I fought against my mind to do what was right. I'm not blaming my schizophrenia for this battle. This battle was all me. I've always been a hateful person. I was the problem child growing up. I always started the fights and was always hurting someone physically or verbally. I was never all that happy. It wasn't until I got saved that it all changed. I know that if God can change me than he can also change the people that attacked France. I think we should pray for the victims and their families but also the attackers as well. Even they aren't too far gone for God to reach them.

I have to go do laundry now.

                                                                     Love, a schizophrenic

Not so good.

I feel like a giant pile of crap shoving my way out a fly's butt. I'm tired and weak feeling. I have lymph nodes swelling so that it looks like I have a twin sprouting off me. Even after taking antibiotics, only 1 has gone down. The one behind my jaw has basically doubled in size in a matter of 3 days and it hurts like stupid and I am bleeding. A lot. My dr says I am anemic because of it. I have to go see a specialist, but I don't have insurance and I don't make enough to get insurance or get help with it. Plus there is a guy I like like and he has no idea. >:( Keep praying for me. Thank
                                                                 Love, a schizophrenic

Nervous

  We all know that life in general can be super stressful at times, but stress doesn't even being to describe the anxiety that I am feeling right now. It is my first senior year of college. I have a percussion exam to prepare for today and I'm not feeling so great about it. I have to perform on saxophone tomorrow and my parents are actually getting to come! The problem with that is because they are coming on a Thursday instead of the weekend, I on'y get to see them for like a couple hours maybe. I'm praying that God will make it to where I can be with them as much as possible since I hardly ever see them. They usually come to visit 2 or 3 times a year since I can't go see them. I have so many rehearsals, meetings, service projects, exams to study and practice for, grades to meet, and I'm sick. With what? No one knows. I have several swollen lymph nodes all over my body. I've heard that can be a normal thing, but it has never happened to me before. My dr has done some test so they'll call me soon and let me know what they find. I feel fine, but I am still worried. My mind is getting the best of me at this point in time. I also still owe about $2,000 on my school bill this semester. I've been trying to work and pay it off. I've also been trying to get my saxophone fixed. I am having to play on my instructors sax since mine is in the shop. I just want MY horn back. I'm a little emotionally drained as well because my best friend is graduating this December and there is a guy I like but he doesn't like me back. Things are weird. I have to go rehearse with my accompanist now.
                                                                        Love, a stressed out schizophrenic.

Halloween

  A friend of mine asked me earlier today if Halloween bothers me. She asked if the costumes and decorations could be triggers for me.
  No. Nothing like that is a trigger for me. I love the decorations and the costumes. I love the creepy music and I especially love the candy. I did remind me of a funny thing that happened to me one Halloween though. I must have been 20ish years old. My roommate and I had been putting black yarn in my dreads for decoration. I usually change the yarn every couple months or so. We were trying to hurry because there was a block party we had planned on going to that evening. So later, as we were walking through a block party together with some friends the dread I put the yarn in kept falling down out of my ponytail. My friend had an extra bobby pen she let me borrow to put it up. We noticed t was getting kinda dark out and I had already been hallucinating that day.  I kept seeing this long, black, creepy creature crawling off to the side everywhere we went. I still see it at times. I especially see it when there are mirrors near by because it is almost as if it crawls from mirror to mirror. Anyway, my roomie knew that I had been Hallucinating more than normal for the past few weeks. She also knew that sometimes it gets worse in the dark so she suggested that we go on home and start our movies that we had planned out to watch. We turn and begin walking down the street. We passed some older houses on the way back to campus. They are very nice homes with wrap around verandas and swings. A few even have the Victorian style tower going on. As we are walking, something black rushes by me in a blur. I screamed and jumped away. My roomie looked at me like "what?" I told her I thought I saw the crawling creature again. I looked around and nothing was there. She tried to comfort me and calm me down as we kept walking towards home. A few minutes later the same thing happened. This time my room mate was like "Girl...I think it is your hair." "What?" I was just really confused and partially terrified. She started laughing and said, "I think your pin fell out of your hair so your dread keeps flying by your face." We stood and laughed for like 8 minutes.
That is really the scariest Halloween gets for me. Happy Halloween.
                                                                        Love, a schizophrenic.

rape

  Earlier this evening a friend and I were driving down the interstate talking and laughing how best friends do. Somehow, we got on the subject of rape. This is a subject that I am kinda eeeehhh about. It is something that I haven't healed from yet nor do I think I ever will to be honest. I've managed to block so much of what happened out of my memory. Unfortunately, blocking it from memory doesn't always mean blocking the emotions. So tonight, I am just going to write about what happened to me. Hopefully, it will help me deal with it a bit more and maybe also help someone else who may stumble across this post.

  My family had, once again, been evicted from our home and forced to move somewhere else. The problem was that neither of my parents were physically able to work. My mother was sick with Lupus and Fibromyalgia. My father was going in to heart failure because of genetic heart disease and also suffering from degenerative spine disease. This forced us to move to a house not too far away owned by a family friend. It wasn't up to code, but it was a roof over our heads. Behind the house were some woods that were split by a barbed wire fence. On both sides of the house and across the street were fields. In the back yard we had several black walnut trees and one little dogwood. Right by the dogwood was an old cinder block shed. It was where we kept out bikes, decorations, and other out door things including some of my dads old tools. 

  One day, my brother Jonathan had his friend, John, over at the house. We were all hanging out and eating dinner. Everyone seemed to always get along. Everything was fine and everyone was laughing having a good time. After we ate, John and my brother decided to go outside. I told them about an old truck I found in the woods behind our house and they wanted to see it. As we were walking down they both stayed behind me. I could hear them whispering but I just figured they were talking about what ever 16 or 17 year old boys talk about. Being a 12 year old girl, I had no idea what that was. Finally, we reached the truck. It was an old rusted ford. Ironically, it was flipped over on its side. (insert ford jokes here) 

  We hung around for a bit. I was looking in the truck when I saw John starring at me. The next thing I know, they are chasing me. They both chased me from the woods all the to the shed in the back yard. I was trying to hide. I don't exactly remember what was said or done that made me run. I vaguely remember being forced to the ground while in the woods. I hid in the shed, but they saw me go in there. John came straight in looking at me with that ugly brace face grin of his. My brother stood by the door way also smiling. John put me on the ground and tried to get my pants off. I remember looking at my brother for help wondering why he wasn't stopping John. He just stood there and watched. I knew that if I was going to get out of that situation it was going to have to be because I fought my way out. For a 12 year old fighting a 17 year old, that seemed nearly impossible. I struggled to get free, but that disgusting piece of shit managed to hold on. I grabbed a tool and bashed his bitch face with it. I ran and surprisingly shoved my douche bag "brother" out of the way. I ran around the house as quick as I could. I was afraid they would try to corner me in by splitting up and coming at me from both sides of the house. Luckily, they didn't. They let me go. I ran inside and sat on the couch. My mom asked me what happened, but I didn't say a word. My mother was a very wise woman and she picked up that something was horribly wrong. She called my best friend, Claudia, and asked her to come over. I talked with Claudia and told her everything. She convinced me to tell my mother who then went ape and told my father. He was furious. My father confronted that disgusting piece of trash and my "brother." Both swear up and down that they never touched me. John wasn't allowed over for a long time after that. 

  After my mom died later that year and my dad finally got his disability approved, we moved to a much nicer home in a much nicer area. My relationship with my brother had started to mend. There were occasions where we had fights and would often pull switch blades or throw fist. It really wasn't uncommon. I'd still call him a "piece of shit rapist." I would also leave the same comment to John when he commented about how much he missed my mom on my brother's fb pictures. That would always start more fights. I wasn't the only one who had this issue with him. He had tried the same thing with several girls at my middle school and his high school. He even tried to get my sister in a room alone with him one time. I forcefully kept that from happening. He has at least 4 children with 4 different girls of various ages yet only claims 1. I feel bad for that child having to grow up with a piece of trash for a father. It wouldn't surprise me if piece of shit did that to his own daughter. Well, one day many years down the road John was allowed to come in the house for a few minutes while my brother packed a bag for a weekend rodeo trip. I, now 18, was in the kitchen washing dishes. John, 23ish, walked in behind me. He said something to me along the lines of "Hey liar." He walked closer to me and started poking and grabbing at my breast. "Stop it." I warned him. He then said, "What? Are you gonna cry to your daddy about it again? You think you're better than me because you're a Christian? What?" I took a deep breath and grabbed a knife. I pointed it at him saying, "Get the fuck out or I swear to God, I WILL kill you." My brother came down just after I said that. Piece of Trash smirked at me and walked away. I later told my dad, "Keep him away from me. If he is EVER near me again, I WILL KILL HIM!" My dad understood and, to this day, John has stayed away.

  I don't play about rape. EVER. People tell me I really should forgive him. From a Christian stand point, I probably should. From a realistic stand point, he is a piece of shit and always will be. There is no forgiving him. He will NEVER be anything worth my time or even a second thought. I've had people tell me that that is exactly why I should forgive him so that I can move on. Excuse me, but I enjoy hating some people. Especially when I know how low they are capable of sinking. When it comes to this matter, my brain tells me that I am not worth much either and that I should pray. I know I should, but I struggle to.

                                                                                  Love, a schizophrenic.

                                                  

Correlations

  My previous story was about a hallucination that I've had since childhood. What brought the story about was a conversation I had with a friend. My friend had mentioned seeing a shadow figure since she was young. This friend also mentioned the top hat and that family members had also seen him.
  I've heard of people having seen similar "ghost" as someone else. I've also heard of people suffering from similar hallucinations. For example, I used to see numbers in the shape of animals. I met a girl in a hospital who also saw numbers in shapes of animals. Some people who have similar experiences also can have nearly the same hallucination. But what happens if these things are real?
 I was in China for a couple weeks a few years ago. I had recently been trapped in a dark room with no way out before a friend could get to me. She told me as soon as the lights went out I was all she could think of to get to because she was that worried about me. While I was in that dark room, I saw this creature crawl towards me from the bathroom. It got about half way to me before it began to sprint. I pulled back in fear just as it jumped and my best friend slung open the door. I described to my friend everything that I saw. Later that day a man told us about some of the spirits some Chinese people believe in. He showed us one demon in particular that almost took my breathe. My friend and I both paused and looked at each other. We nodded in agreement that this creature was what had tracked me down that night.
  I'm not saying everything that is hallucinated is a spirit, but I'm also not saying that seeing spirits is impossible. ANYWAY, back to the old man.
  I often referred to him as Mr. Sanders to my psychologist. Mr. Sanders is unique. I don't know what to say about him really because there is no way to describe to you the feeling I get from him. I just got back from touring with an ensemble not long ago. 1 night I had to stay in a host home. Host homes are when people from the church we play at take us home and give us a room to sleep in that night. We always stay in groups of at least 2 so no person ever goes to a home by themselves. My host home people seemed strange in a scary way. The man, who looked almost exactly like Mr. Sanders, was always smiling at me. He never really said much though. He gave me the creeps, but was nice when we did speak to each other. I just can't get over the way he looked at me. He looked at me just like Mr. Sanders does. Their faces are practically the same. Their mannerisms are interchangeable. Now my mind is churning trying to figure out if there is a correlation anywhere. It seems as if this has been happening a lot lately. 1st with the lady I could have sworn was my dead mother and with Mr Sanders. I'm honestly creeping myself out a bit here.
  I try not to over think things, but that is almost impossible for me. Keep me in your prayers.
                                               Love, a schizophrenic

The old man

  The sand felt smooth as I sifted it through my fingers. The sun was hot on my back and, as always in the south, the bugs were biting away at my legs. It didn't matter though. My set up outside was perfect for any 5 year old. I was having fun in my little sand box while I pretended I was at the beach. I practically was. All day I could play in the sand and when I got tired of that I could go jump in the pool. Just as I got tired of the pool Mama would call for us to come in and eat. This day, I had just finished my favorite lunch of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and lemonade. I made my way back outside to finish my mote around my castle.
  My brother yelled at me to move so he could do his stunt. His plan was to run and jump over the sand box and land in the pool. As I looked up, I saw someone from a distance. The man was standing in the habitat yards. I had never seen him before, but he looked right at me. I was creeped out by him. I kept playing and pretending he wasn't there but every time I looked up he would get a little bit closer. Then it got to where he was actually in our yard. My brother didn't even seem to notice him so I continued to pay the man no mind. I could see what he was wearing now. He was wearing a black tux, a red bow tie, shiny shoes, a top hat, and was using a fancy walking cane. It was black and the handle was a silver skull. How did my brother not notice this guy? Every time I looked up the man was getting closer and closer. I didn't even have to look up anymore. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and his shadow was over me. I saw him bend like he was going to put his hand on my shoulder. I moved away. I could hear my brother still playing in the pool as if nothing was going on. I looked up at the man. His eyes were a piercing blue. His beard was long and grey with some black and white. I slowly stood up, decided my brother was fine on his own, and made my way into the house. I didn't speak a work to anyone.
  I still see the man every once in a while. He has never said a word to me and I don't know who he is. He always appears from a distance only to catch up to me later no matter how fast I am or how slow he is. He hasn't changed any at all. I don't know whether or not to be afraid of this man. He has never hurt me that I know of, but something about him freaks me out. I can't help but watch him though when he is near. The strange thing? I have friends who have seen someone or something like him before.
                                            Love, a schizophrenic

sarcasm

  Have you ever been out in public and you start to think that everyone's thoughts are against you? I don't mean you start to FEEL like people are thinking badly of you or that they are secretly talking about you. What I mean is you get nervous, you shake a bit, get a bit sweaty, your head starts to throb, and before you know it you can hear everything. At least you THINK you can hear everything. Your headache continues to worsen and when you look up everyone is walking by pretending you don't even exist. The voices in your head tell you that they actually aren't ignoring you. They are talking about you, to you, and implanting thoughts in your head, or maybe they can even hear your thoughts. You begin to panic. You even try to figure out how this could possible be. Are they aliens? Are they gods? Are these people even real or just more hallucinations? Has this ever happened to anyone else?
  No? Oh, that's right. These things don't actually happen. They are just made up movie sense that Hollywood fills our living rooms with. Mental illnesses never actually happens and of course, if it does, that person is ALWAYS  murderer....wait no....no...I'm definitely being sarcastic. Sorry.
  That scenario I described? Yeah, that has happened to me before on several occasions. What happened? Welp, I was dragged outta there by my parents before anyone began to notice too much. Yep, I ended up in a hospital not much longer after that. Did I kill anyone? Nope. Just stabbed a few innocent bystanders...with my demonic laser vision. Ya know, cause I'm "demon possessed." Once again. Sarcasm.
  I'm super sorry if this sounds whiny in anyway, but these are issues that I face everyday. People ask me this stuff all the time. "Do you think you're demon possessed...or maybe just oppressed?" Nope. My brain ain't wired correctly....and apparently neither is yours ya nut. "I don't know that I want to be around you. You could be dangerous." Really? If I was dangerous I would be pickin' off better people than you, ya lil waste a my time.
  People come up with all kinds of questions and ideas when they are afraid of something they don't understand. It is a defense mechanism. We has humans need an explanation for just about everything. I understand that, but at least try to find an answer without insulting me. I really wish we had some sort of technology that allowed us to research and ask questions. What would they call that? Internet, maybe? I could keep on about this, but my point is to please do your research so you quit saying stupid crap.
                                                     Love, a schizohrenic

Rough night

People with schizophrenia will understand this. We know that some days can be much worse than others. Last night was one of those times that caught me off guard.
I'm traveling with an ensemble and last night aome of us stayed in a hotel. It was a decent room with warm showers and air conditioning. Thank God. Anyway, i haf already showered anf was getting ready for bed. I felt something on my foot. I have tactile hallucinations so this was nothing new. What was new were the types of creatures i saw when i looked down. They were a dark green color. They looked kinda like giant grass hoppers and crickets. I kivked it off my foot, but when i looked up i saw at least a dozen more. They kept crawling on me and were keeping me from sleeping. I didnt tell anyone because people dont always understand and may panic. 1 roommate noticed me wiggling a lot, but i didnt tell her anything. These thinks kept me up almost all night. They almost reminded me of the frog creatures i've mentioned in previous post. I hate when things like that happen. I've seen and heard things since, but nothing as distracting and frightening as that.
            Love, a schizophrenic.

Traveling tips

  Many people have someone in their family who is battling a mental disorder or are battling one themselves. Unfortunately, these disorders can interfere with plans. This can often be upsetting for the person with the disorder because they may feel as if everything is there fault. So, if traveling
1) Make sure you or your family member are stable. If you are having psychotic breaks everyday, it may not be in their best interest to put the stress of traveling on them.
2) Contact your doctor and let them know of the plans. They may be able to give more helpful tips. Also, if something goes wrong it is good for the main psychologist/psychiatrist to know about it.
3) Surprises aren't always the best idea. This goes hand in hand with 1. Some people might can handle a surprise vacation. Others may not be able to. Warn them and give them plenty of time to prepare and plan.
4) Make sure that some of your favorite activities are included in this vacation so you don't feel like a dog on a leash being drug around. Just because you happen to have a mental disorder doesn't mean you don't have a right to have a say so in what is going on.
5) Make sure you bring plenty of your medication. Write down on a piece of paper everything you take, how much, when, and why. This may be helpful in case of an emergency. EMS or whoever will have a list of what you are on and can make quicker decisions on how to help you if you are injured. I've been injured before and didn't tell the doctor what medication I was on. They saw something in my blood that indicated drugs, but once I told them my medications it all made more sense to them.
6) Communicate. If you are uncomfortable then tell someone. If they care for you, they will help you.

I'm just bringing this up because I am getting ready to travel with an ensemble and thought maybe someone else might be getting ready for travel as well and could use some advise. That was a long sentence.
                                                  Love, a Schizophrenic.

Aren't you feeling better yet?

It seems like every time I ask someone to help me or pray for me, they wait a few days and ask "aren't you feeling better yet?" 

Ladies and gents, I hate to break it to you, but uh...schizophrenia doesn't go away like a cold. I may be experiencing symptoms for months or years without them going away. It is a chronic disorder. It doesn't leave because I want it to or because I load up on antibiotics and vitamin c. It is a malfunction in the brain pathways due to chemical imbalances and disruption causing chemical imbalances in the synapses in the brain. It is gray matter being eaten away in my brain continuously without my permission. It is a disturbance in the force that no jedi can fix. So next time you call someone a faker because they've hallucinated for days or have been depressed for weeks, stop and think about the science. Imagine what the difference between your brain and their's. If you can't do that...google it. Learn the science. LEARN what is actually taking place  or not taking place in the brain to cause their much unwanted (by them and you) symptoms. Trust me, they are probs waaay more annoyed than you are. Ya asshole.

                                                                      Love, a schizophrenic

Watching through a window

I often feel like I'm watching things through a window. I feel no connection to anything or anyone what so ever. My head feels like my brain is a few seconds behind and everything gets really loud and my vision blurs. I tried explaining this to my Dr as best I could. He knows how detached I feel at times. He called this certain case sensory overload. 

Sensory overload isn't one of the 1st things people would associate with schizophrenia, but those of us with schizophrenia are far too familiar with it. It is exactly how it sounds. The brain gets overwhelmed by all the information it is having to interpret. In schizophrenic brains the pathways are already kinda messed up causing the brain to fill in the information the best it can if it can. So when this happens to someone with something like schizophrenia, it really can be too overwhelming. The best I know to do is to just try and sleep it off. Ima go do that.

                                                                Love, a schizophrenic

Switched

  As a lot of people know, paranoia is one symptom of schizophrenia. I am not always struggling with paranoia, but it is something I have dealt with before to the point of hospitalizations. Maybe some of you psych people can help me with this one. I'm not entirely sure this would be paranoia as much as it would be a delusion.
  My mother died of an accidental overdose of her lupus medication when I was 12. She died at home but EMS was able to get her heart to beat again before rushing her to the hospital. There she was placed on life support machines. She had tubes draining blood from her stomach? The doctor told us that she was brain dead and they were injecting something in her to make her heart keep beating. Her liver and kidneys had shut down. I think I mentioned in a previous post about having hallucinations of her after she died.
  Recently I saw a woman on Facebook. I've been friends with this woman for a while. I glanced at her picture after she liked one of my post and she looked like my mother only older then when she died. I heard voices telling me it was my mom so I began researching her. I came to the conclusion that my mom didn't really die. She divorced my dad (they used to argue a lot) and then moved away. The woman's profile said she is divorced and she looks almost how I can imagine my mom looking now. She is friends with my step mom and I thought my step mom had something to do with it. My dad did tell me when he had her taken off the machines that it was alright for her to go that'd we'd be okay. What if that is what he talking about her leaving? I found my mom's death certificate but I wasn't actually there when she "died." Her profile was just a way that she could still be with us.
  Basically, my brain kept giving me all this proof that it was her. Well, then I hallucinated her walking into my dorm room. She didn't talk like my mom. Her voice was much different. I haven't heard my mom's voice in 10 years, but I would know it if I heard it. This lady wasn't her. She was shorter than my mom was. I know people sometimes shrink as they get older. My mom was about 5'7, but this lady probably wasn't even 5'4. She had the ban-aid on her arm where my mom used to have her blood taken from. She wasn't wearing the same type of shorts I remember my mom wearing. She put her arm on my shoulder and I tried to ignore her, but she stood there. Now, I can't get her to leave. I don't know this lady.
                                                             Help, a schizophrenic

No laughing matter

  Today I heard about a girl around my age who tried to kill herself. First, she cut her wrist and then tried to hang herself. Long story short, neither worked so she jumped out a window. That is when her friends who were going to visit her found her. They dialed 911 and the girl was taken to the hospital. 

  I don't know what made the girl want to do that. Maybe she suffers from depression, or was going through a really tough time. What angered me about the situation was the way I heard others speaking. I heard things like, "Well, if thy're dumb enough to do it then let them." or "Bitches are crazy these days. They either kill you or kill themselves." These comments were said with a smile.
  Suicide and mental illnesses are no laughing matter. The girl tried to kill herself. She almost died and people are making jokes about it? That is not okay. I understand that some people try to make humor out of their own illness. Personally, I don't think it helps me and it certainly doesn't help fight stigmas. If people hear me laughing about my schizophrenia, then they will think it is okay for them to do so. Then, before we know it, there are people not taking any of it seriously or completely misunderstanding mental illnesses. Thanks to Hollywood I already deal with that enough. I try to be open about my schizophrenia, but sometimes people make me wonder if I should be ashamed of it. I've lost friends because people are afraid of me or think that I am going to kill them. They ask me how I am functioning with so many different personalities (DID is not schizophrenia) . I just look at them like they're stupid. Others ask me how often my moods change (bipolar disorder is not schizophrenia).
I don't really know how to wrap this up because I want to go watch a movie, but basically what I am saying is to watch how we talk about and treat suicide and mental illness.
                                                       Love, a schizophrenic

Hidden disabilities

I was walking down the hall on my way to a practice room when I noticed a friend looking unusually sad. I stopped to ask if she was alright. "Yea, I'm just struggling right now. I can't concentrate on school because of some problems at work." I smiled and said, "Well, if you need to talk I am here." My friend then hugged me around my neck and began to cry. When I say cry, I mean she was crying like a sleepy, hungry baby who just witnessed a dozen puppies get ran over twice by scary clowns on loud motorcycles. I walked her to a quieter place and she began to tell me everything. I am the type of person that when I notice someone having a similar problem to something I have faced before, I like to tell them about it to encourage them. She was telling me about how depressed she had become and it seemed as if no one understood. That is when I told her about my schizophrenia and the problems I face with it, including depression. She stopped me and said, "You don't look schizophrenic."

That, believe it or not, is one I hear quite often. I'm not exactly sure what a schizophrenic looks like. As far as I know I look just like everyone else. I just smiled and said, "You don't want to see me when I do look schizophrenic." She just laughed. At least I could make her smile.

It just makes me wonder why people only seem to care about certain disabilities. People care about people missing limbs, people with some sort of paralysis, someone with skin disorders, or people who are considered blind. Most of these people we can tell somehow have a disability. I think that people only seem to really care about disabilities that they can see.That's why there isn't as much help for people with bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, major depressive disorder, DID, or what ever. People try to keep those ones secrets when I sometimes think those are the ones that need the most help. I can't really name 1 aspect of my life that schizophrenia hasn't screwed me over in. I am doing waaaay better compared to last year. I am able to function and I can brush my own teeth, but I know schizophrenia can try to take over my mind again any time is pretty well pleases and there is really nothing that I can do about it. Where is my help though? Where is my support? No where. People are afraid of me. People are ashamed of me. People often think I am faking it because they don't see me when I'm mindlessly crying and talking to God knows what in a corner with my blood splattered on the wall because for some reason I thought it made sense to stab myself with a key over and over. We can't ignore hidden disabilities nor the people with them. They are responsible for so many lives each year. Shaming someone for having a mental illness kinda also puts their blood on your hands when they don't go for help. Don't be ashamed. Don't be afraid. Help someone by speaking up. Your voice may be the only kind one they hear and may actually make a difference. 

                                                                  Love, a schizophrenic

9/11

Most of my post are along the lines of mental health schizophrenia or other mood/ psych disorders, but today is different. Today is a day of remembrance. I thought it necessary to write a post honoring what this day means to America.
I was in 3rd grade doing some classwork when a next door teacher came in and whispered something to my teacher. I noticed the horror on her face, but thought if it was something important she would let us know. Instead,we all just kept working. She tried to make things as normal as possible so we didn't panic about something we didn't really understand. I vaguely remember hearing her voice shaking as she spoke to us and said, "It is time to line up for lunch."
My parents couldn't come pick us up that day so we went home with our best friends. We walked in and the videos just kept playing over and over. The news people were talking about different ideas as to what really happened. At first they thought maybe the plane was being flown by a student pilot. Then they thought the pentagon was a military training incident. Finally, they figured out the truth. They even suspected more attacks all across the nation including Charlotte, a large city near home.
I remember for months seeing the faces of the heroes and the pictures of those that died. Everyone was trying to run down the stairs, but the firefighters and police were running up carrying equipment. Then, they'd run down carrying people. Thank you, all you heroes. The way strangers took care of each other amazed me. The patriotism that arose from such an event gave me hope for this nation. It always brings tears to my eyes. It is a shame that it takes something like that to bring a nation together. I saw strangers helping each other regardless of differences. I saw humans caring for other humans. I even saw a man running with his dog in his arms to protect it. It was a horrible day because I also saw people jump from windows because they thought they would have a higher chance of survival by jumping instead of going through the debris and flames. I saw surrounding buildings catch fire and disappear from the amount of whatever that stuff was. I saw American citizens, my people, harmed on their own land. I saw our protectors, our government, attacked. So much happened that day. I still cannot gather all of my thoughts. I can say that I will ALWAYS remember. God.Bless.America.
                                                                    Love, a schizophrenic

Suicide awareness day

Today is suicide awareness day. I know that suicide is a depressing topic, but I also know that it is something many people understand. It isn't about attention, feeling sorry for yourself, or revenge. It isn't always not seeing a better way out. It may be a feeling of invisibility and worthlessness. It may also be an action demanded by hallucinations or even real people. Whatever it is, it is serious. Here is one of my stories about how suicide has impacted my life. Please, share your in the comments if you wish. 

People followed me around school screaming names at me almost like a chant. Some days I couldn't tell what was real and wasn't. The voices in my head telling me to kill myself mixed with the actual ones outside my head. Voices of people who I had never said a word to and voices of those I had to hear from the second I awoke to the second I passed out all shouted at me and at each other. Nothing was ever nice or uplifting. Students at my school would follow me and scream, "Dike! Dike! Dike!" over and over again at me. They'd call me fat (I was 5'7 and 145ibs) and weird. The ones in my head were a little more creative and intricate. They didn't just hate me. They hated each other. They'd cuss me out and each other. They were ALWAYS yelling. It was never nice. They told me a variety of things to do to myself everyday. Things like "cut yourself," or "There is a car. Why don't you jump in front of it?" were heard several times an hour. I wasn't stable mentally, but how could I tell someone that. I could barley hear myself think long enough to gather a simple thought. How was I supposed to explain to people what was going on when I wasn't even sure. I broke down one day and asked my dad if we could talk. Of course he said yes. I remember exactly what I told him. "Do you know how people say you can't think more than 1 thing at a time? Well, I can." I immediately burst into tears. I told him about some of the things they said. It wasn't long after that I began having back to back hospitalizations. It wasn't long after that that I began attempting what I was told. I cut several probably hundreds of times, I tried ways or strangulation, I even tried the cars. People always stopped me or got to me before I could bleed too much from the cuts on my wrist, sides, legs, and neck. I wasn't really all that depressed as much as I was hopeless and being controlled by command and tactile hallucinations. If I didn't do what the commands said, I would be bitten. Those bites and scratches hurt worse then my sharp rocks, broken glass, or knives. THey worked together to get me to cooperate. I had no choice. It was either pain or more pain. I was lucky. I had someone there to stop me. The look in my dad's eye every time he told me he loved me made me hold on a bit longer. My sister yelling at my hallucinations and calling them butt heads made me hold on a bit longer. Yes, even the psych wards and the people there made me hold on a bit longer. The medication unclouded things some so I had more of a mental view. I had more of a choice. I chose to hold on a bit longer.

Not everyone is that lucky. It is up to the rest of us to help whoever needs us. Be that smile, the warm hug, the ride to the dr's office, or the one who tries to understand. It may make a difference. It won't solve people's problems, but it may help them hold on a bit longer.

                                                                   Love, a schizophrenic

just random thoughts saved as a draft from forever ago

I was lucky. My delusions and hallucinations weren't so bothersome that I couldn't focus during class. There where a few occasions that they were problematic, but were quickly solved with the help of well informed teachers. My teachers knew I wasn't quite like he other children. They knew that something about my mind was a bit...off, but helped me never the less. Some children and adults aren't as lucky though. Some people are educated through a home bound program and others are in special schools or home schooled.
Young children usually can't hold still very long at all and most teachers are trained to build lesson plans based on student needs. This can make it hard for teachers to notice mild symptoms. The child will continue through life thinking that what is in their brain is normal. If they do notice it isn't right or it is so bad they can't handle it, they don't always have the words to describe it. Grades can drop, irritability may rise, eating and sleep patterns may be disrupted, and some kids may pull away from other children in general or just their age. I pulled away from children my age and liked the older kids better.
Teenagers may also have problems with grades, carrying out and holding down a job, and many other things. In many cases, this is when the visits to the psychiatric facilities begin. Drs will start throwing out other diagnosis besides, add, adhd, or autism. Drs start looking at depression, anxiety disorders, or OCD. Most Drs try to avoid bipolar disorder, DID, and schizophrenia. They start small. add to anxiety to major depressive. Then they like to add in schizoid personality disorder or schizotypal. They might even throw around the word "schizophreniform." Then, they'll go back and forth between bipolar and schizoaffective. After a big psychotic break they will finally make a decision. This is how things seemed to me anyway. This isn't how all Drs do things. Many people will kill themselves or be locked up by the time they hit 20. I was lucky with that too. I was just in and out of psych wards for a few years.
Making friends that are real can be tough. I used to stop and talk to people on the street. I kept seeing them around. One day, my best friend asked me who I was talking to because there wasn't anyone there. It freaked some people out and they didn't hang out with me anymore. Now, I wait until I see someone that I know is real speak to a new person. That way, I can make sure the new person is real too and I don't scare people when I'm in public.
Focusing on work is nearly impossible when you have a mental disorder. Schizophrenics can't concentrate because of disorganization, racing thoughts, or hallucinations. I know this from experience. I don't know about other disorders as detailed, but I know it is still complicated.

It has been a while

It has been a while since I wrote. Life has been hectic and rough. School and work are wearing me out.  I've noticed more intense symptoms since school started. Maybe they aren't more intense. Maybe it is just that school puts me in more situations that are tougher because of my schizophrenia. For example, I can't focus as easily as most people in my classes. I have racing thoughts, hundreds of hallucinations that talk to me or stare at me, I have thoughts that aren't my own, and I can't always connect the words being spoken to me.
I am glad to finally be back in music courses and ensembles. We are starting a sax choir again and we are getting a bass saxophone! Symphonic band is having retreat this weekend. We are going to be in rehearsal sooooooo long, but it will be so worth it. I just figured I would give anyone that cares an update on why I haven't been posting anything new. Remember to love each other and be nice. You never know what difference you will make in someone's life.
                                                               Love, a schizophrenic.

What is schizophrenia again?

It is like I can't scream loud enough. People still won't hear and they will never understand! This isn't just a game and it isn't something I can just ignore. I can't make it go away because I want to go somewhere. Do you know I had to cancel going on a missions trip this summer because I wasn't well enough to go? People ask me every day "How, are you feeling?" The same damn way I felt yesterday. It does not go away over night. It isn't like the flu or a cold that will get better quickly. No! This is fucking schizophrenia! It stays. It never leaves. It.is.always.ALWAYS.there. No matter what. There is no beating it. There is no cure. There is no get well soon. There is, "I hope you don't off yourself too soon." There is "I hope you aren't one of those statistics." There is no promise of a future for me. People say that I am too young. People are diagnosed younger than me. I was diagnosed at 17 and am now 22. I've come to face it. Why can't you? There is nothing except a mind lost and wondering within itself never to return to the light of day again. That is schizophrenia.
                                                                   Love, a schizophrenic

How I handle myself in public?

Wow. Some one had the nerve to ask me how I handle myself in public! What is that even supposed to mean? Maybe they're right.
Basically, I go to therapy so I can conceal what is going on in my head and not freak the rest of the world out. They want me to calm down so they can go about their business. As long as I am not bothering them, who cares about what goes on inside me head? Right? I take medication so I freak out less yet every time I have a bit of a melt down, it is back to the ER I go. Back out of people's way. I have to learn to "deal with it" so that everyone can ignore it. No one wants to admit it is there, but it is! They try to hide us from society so that people with think that we have everything under control and that EVERYONE IS FINE AND DANDY WHEN THEY AREN'T! Doctors don't care if we get better. They just want our money. Family members want to look humble yet they yell at us everytime we have even the slightest issue. Next time I won't "handle myself in public." I don't want to be forced to sit quietly while hallucinations tear me to shreds. I want to run away from them. I want to fight them. While you are sitting in your chair chatting away with your friends, smiling, drinking, and having the best time of your life I am forced to sit there and pretend to be okay. I have to pretend I am okay for your comfort when I am seeing monsters and demons wreaking havoc everywhere. They tell me to cut or they will bite. Have you ever been bitten before by them? Do you know what a tactile hallucination is? I have and I do. I have to let them bite me. I have to watch them and see the blood. I have to make sure I don't even squarm from the pain. I have to sit and smile for your comfort. So, how do I handle myself in public? I don't know. Maybe that is why I end up in so many wards.
                                                                   Love, a schizophrenic
         

Life

I don't care anymore.

What is everyday life like with schizophrenia?

People ask me sometimes about how my life is different then someone who doesn't have schizophrenia. To answer honestly, it changes everyday. It also depends on who you are asking. Some days are good and there really isn't much a difference, but other days it is a whole different world. I have a routine that I try to follow to make sure I am functional.

Step one: After I wake up I get up. Some days I don't even get this far.

Step two: I eat. I love cereal but wouldn't complain if I had eggs, liver mush, and toast with a glass of milk or oj. 

Step three: I take my medication. I have to do this after I eat otherwise I will throw up because of the medicine. If I can make it this far on my own today will be a good day.

Step four: I get dressed. If I can find the motivation to do that then I feel pretty good. Hopefully the good day feeling stays all day. It doesn't always.

5: I have to get moving. If I let my mind idle, I will lose it. My mind has to be moving as does my body. That is 1 reason why I like playing rugby and my instruments. Both require me to think and both require me to move and exorcise. If I can do this, it is a miracle. This one tells me wether or not traveling or what ever is a good idea. I don't travel when I recognize myself showing heavy symptoms. It could be dangerous and frightening for me and everyone around me.

6: Its probs medicine time by now which means it is also lunch time. If I have made it this far without a hallucination or any other problems I start to get worried because I know it is bound to happen soon. It is like I am waiting on someone to arrive. "hmmm. Where are they?" Most of the time I freak out at least once or twice by now. If not out loud then secretly. That is what the therapy is for. It helps me act normal when freaking out on the inside so I don't frighten anyone on the outside. 

7: I go about my day with chores or errands. I hang out with friends and freak out a couple more times. I like to relax a bit in the evening with a game or a cartoon.

8: drug time once more, but that means DINNER! YAY! Then a shower :(

9: Showers mean it is almost night time and I hate night time. Everything slows down except for me. My mind is still running at 500 mph and I want to do the same. It gets lonely. It gets depressing because I start thinking about things like the future and certain classes in school. Mainly the future though. Let's face, schizophrenia doesn't promise a very bright future...not even a dimly lit one.

This is just my normal weekend day. The week days are a harder to go through because of work and classes soon. I am doing well being able to take on work and school. What happens on my bad days though? It depends. On what, I don't know. Not every bad day is the same. Somedays, like I mentioned earlier, I can't get out of bed. If I do,I try to kill myself either from depression or hallucinations telling me to, I cry and scream out of fear because the logic part of my brain left sometime during the night and nothing makes sense anymore, or sometimes I track down bad guys or my neighbors cat because they have the fire stone that opens the portal on mars where Obama is planning to destroy the earth while playing checkers with Buddha. Sometimes all of these happen. 

It is hard to explain the average day because there is no average. If you know someone with a disorder like this, please be patient and kind. They are just as confused by it as you are. Don't be condescending and don't try to make the mean things you say sound nice. They'll know. 

                                                                     Love, a schizophrenic

Triggers

Some friends and I were discussing scary movies the other day. They asked me if horror films or scary stories are triggers for me. Those of you who don't know, a trigger is something that can cause my symptoms to become worse. Bacon may make someone with high cholesteral have higher cholesteral. Talking about large noisy crowds may upset someone with a social phobia. Talking about frightening things may cause someone with psychosis to have hallucinations. My answer to them was this:

I have some triggers. Some scary movies may make hallucinations worse. Others may make paranoia worse. It doesn't have to be anything scary though. Certain animals, certain people, or certain places can also cause it. Being alone can also cause me to become depressed and even make me pay more attention to hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia. Last night, for example, I was home alone. I heard something come up the stairs. What ever it was then went into my room and into my closet. I picked up my knife and opened it. I opened the closet door with the knife pointed in front of me and turned on the light. Nothing. Nothing was there except for boxes, clothes, and suitcases. Luckily, my logic wasn't too far gone and I was able to talk myself down. I'm not always able to do that. 

Sometimes even talking about my schizophrenia can seem to make it worse, but I don't know for sure. 

I just wanted to share something because I haven't done so in a while. I hadn't been feeling so great the past couple weeks. 

                                                                           Love, a schizophrenic

How I've been doing.

This week has been a bit rough and I haven't posted anything because of it. I was having a tough time concentrating and my hallucinations were kinda too much. Sorry this post is so short. I try to only write when I am well so thoughts written make sense.
                                                           Love, a Schizophrenic.

How has schizophrenia helped me?

People see on television or in movies the dangerous schizophrenic running around killing people or sitting in a corner, rocking, and speaking rhymes to themselves. So, they think that is all schizophrenia is. I try to tell my stories on here as close to how I remember everything taking place. I don't think any of them have been happy or fun in anyway so I wanted to write something a little bit different today. I watched a video on youtube by Rachel Star and she kind of inspired this post. So, if you read it rachel, thanks. :)
As human beings inhabiting this fine planet, we all face struggles that we must work through and sometimes get through alone. Yes, I am viewed as weaker at times because of my disorder. I do need extra help every now and then with lots of support. When stressful times happen, I may need someone to help keep an eye on me just in case I get worse. Also, I know how to work through the bad news. I know that I am living with schizophrenia. That is tough. It encourages me to keep fighting and moving on even when others would be ready to throw up the white flag and surrender. I know not to give up when everything looks black. I know that I am tough enough to keep pushing through.
I know several other people who are also schizophrenic. Some of them I met while I was in a psych ward somewhere and a couple I have met just out and about. I am able to use my schizophrenia as a way to relate with them and encourage them when they are struggling and they do the same when I struggle. It has weeded out the true friends from the back stabbers and my support system is even stronger now. I still have social struggles, but I can relate when someone says they are having a hard time with a mental disorder. I may not have that certain disorder and I may not know 100% what they are going through because I am not them, but I can relate more than most people.
God loves me and I love him. I have an even more powerful testimony now because of my schizophrenia. I have, thanks to God, been able to witness to others because of it. Not just mentally ill either. God heals all wounds and if people know He helps me then they know He can help them. He may not choose to heal me here on Earth, but one day I know I won't be schizophrenic anymore. I know that when a mentally ill persons mentions any religion, especially Christianity it seems, no one takes them seriously because it is "just the psychosis speaking." I agree with that at times. I've met people who say things like, "God wants me to jump of this rock." or they claim even to be the Christ. That is psychosis. Someone saying they love God because he watches out for us is not psychosis. Anyway, I got off topic.
Schizophrenia isn't all rainbows and butterflies, but it isn't always dark clouds and confusing and frightening monsters. Thanks for reading.
                                                     Love, a schizophrenic.

What is the hardest part?

I had a friend ask me not long after I told her about my schizophrenia, "What is the hardest part?" Well, by hard do you mean the symptoms? Do you mean the anger and hatred I sometimes feel towards myself for having this disorder? Do you mean social things like the reactions I get from people?
For me, my toughest symptom to work through is disorganization. When I am not doing to well sometimes I get to where I can't even make complete sentences. I can't carry out conversations. Not because I don't want to, but because my brain won't let me. I have a thought and it moves on or races on really. That causes my memory to be bad. I might do something and then completely forget that I even did it. It could be something as simple as walking to a room or saying something to a person. I sometimes repeat the same things to a person minutes after I have already told them. Here recently, my symptoms are manageable so I haven't been having that tough a time.
Another hard part is when people don't understand. I don't care how many degrees you have or how much knowledge you think you have, you don't know anything and can't understand until you are going through it. Guess what? Even when you are going through it, you still may not understand. I know I have wrote post on here saying to try to understand. The key word is "try." When someone is patient and trying it makes things so much easier. I can't even explain how I feel at times. So alone and misunderstood. So hated and confused. The emptiness sometimes feels so overwhelming that there is no way anyone could understand except for God himself. Sometimes I wonder if people with the same disorder even can understand. I hate myself for it at times. I get so angry and beat myself up. I've done self harm over that before and also because hallucinations tell me to. That also makes me angry at myself. I wonder what I did to get it and why I am such a screw up. Why do I cause so many problems? What is wrong or so different about me that I had to be the one to get this disease?
When I am having a rough day people can notice. I can't tell them, "Sorry. I don't feel well. I am schizophrenic." I can't always tell my teachers that the reason I didn't go to class is because I was hallucinating. I would like to think that it is 2015 and people are open minded, but I'm not that naive. People are people and people are douches sometimes. I can't always tell my boss the reason I am crying is because I am depressed or the voices won't leave me alone. Do you know where that gets you? A psych ward. But, why should I have to go to a psych ward for 1 bad day? Schizophrenics have bad symptomatic days. If I went to a ward every time I had a bad day full of bothersome symptoms, I would never get out of the hospital and God knows what medications I would be on or how much.
I don't know what the single hardest part is because it is all hard for me right now. In the future I may have a different response, but for now this is my answer.
                                                              Love, a schizophrenic.

Zero

I'm not always sure when my hallucinations first appear to me. I don't always know if they are real or not. Sometimes I can't tell that the frog people are fake and other times I can. Sometimes my memories f them fade or mix with others because there are so many.
Zero is a little girl that I used to see often. She was around 8 when I first saw her. She was always angry and I could never figure out why. She was full of hatred and evil intent. One specific time I remember seeing her is one I will never forget. It was night time and I was out for a walk on campus. We have a fountain here with a flame in the middle called the Eternal flame. I smelled something strange as I approached the fountain. As I turned the corner, I saw her standing there gazing into the flame reaching her hand towards it. She saw me. I walked up and sat at the edge of the fountain just looking. I was trying to ignore the basketballs bouncing on the outdoor court and the screaming coming from the sand volleyball area, but everything just kept echoing as I starred. She smiled. Something was different this time. Something bad. Blood began to pour from her mouth as shouts of joy escaped her throat. She thrusted her whole arm into the flame and began to laugh louder. I jumped up and made my way quickly to my room. There, I saw Mr. Blue. He asked me how I was doing. He has a way of knowing my thoughts and the answers I am going to say before I say them. I guess that would make sense since he is a hallucination. "I know you saw her because I saw her and you see everything I see." I said to him. "Don't let her worry you. She is still confused." He said as he sat in my chair. "That wasn't confusion! That was self harm!" I caught myself shouting. "Why do you care?" Was his response, "She is just a hallucination." I cared because she somehow is apart of me. I don't always believe that hallucinations are meaningful, but with Zero I do. "Go take a shower and calm down." He said to me.
I went into the bathroom and there stood Mr. Red. "Do you mind?" I asked as I stepped into the stall. "Not at all if you don't." He smiled. I got into the shower. I was talking to him about it while he was on the other side of the room. All of the sudden I felt something grabbing my foot. I looked down to see Zero climbing her way out of the drain. She looked fine. No burn marks or anything were on her. "You are starting to turn into Used To Be. She always sneaks up and grabs me." I said to her as I washed my face. "I just wanted to mess with you." She smiled as she stood in the corner of the very small shower. "Is that why you did that at the flame?" I asked angrily. She smiled, "I'm like you." She pointed at my arm. It was covered in blisters and began to burn. All I knew to do was to turn on the cold water and let it run over my entire arm. "Why? What? I don't understand." I cried as I felt myself slide on the wall to the floor of the shower. Why do these hallucinations plague me? Maybe my step mom was right? Maybe I am at least demon oppressed. But what about the bunnies? Even satan can appear as an angle of light. Confusion and racing thoughts stormed my mind as I cried in the shower floor. Zero just watched smiling. My arm had quit burning sometime while I sat there. I got up and got out of the shower. Why she did those things to me I'll never know. That is one of the most vivid memories of her and 1 that I catch myself thinking about often. If I ever have a conclusion to these thoughts, I'll be sure to let you know.
                                                               Love, a schizophrenic.

What made me unafraid to talk about schizophrenia?

Nothing. It is still a frightening topic to share about with others. What did get to me is all the ignorance surrounding mental illnesses and all the "friends" I lost once they found out. People have tried to put me through exorcisms before. My own step mother asked me several times if I thought I was demon possessed. People think I am suffering from DID or Bipolar disorder. They make jokes about it. Why is is that a cancer joke is something you shouldn't tell, but mental illness jokes are okay? People have accused me of faking before just for attention. No. Why would I do that? I know I can be hard to be around because of social issues coming from schizophrenia, but why would I pretend to be crazy and risk losing even more friends? Unfortunately, there are people that do that. I am not one of them.
Through all of my chatter, what I am trying to say is people's ignorance and rudeness led me to it. I am not ashamed. I am still afraid to share about it at times with people, but not ashamed. Why should I be? I did not choose this and I don't know why it happened to me. No one is ashamed of talking about their diabetes or their heart disease. Why should I be ashamed of a disease in my brain? I shouldn't, and I won't be. If anyone reading this also has a mental disorder, don't be ashamed of it. The right people will cross your path. Don't use it as an excuse, but also be real with yourself and others. If they don't like you because you have an anxiety disorder, you have add, are bipolar, have schizoaffective disorder, or anything they will leave and they were never worth your time to begin with. You are still the same person you were before you told them or they found out. Don't listen to these people that try to shame you for an illness. Keep working hard and trying to get better and don't be ashamed.
                                                             Love, a schizophrenic.

Quite the Opposite

The other day I wrote of sometimes where I was looked down on or mistreated because of things I couldn't help. I know that many people think that behavior issues can always be helped and I beg to differ in the case of mental illness. The brain can be sick like anything else in the body. I also believe that there are things that I have done and still do that are not part of my illness. I just wanted to write a post to explain and give some examples.
When I was a child I was very self centered. One day, my sister wanted to play dragon ball z, but I wanted to play soccer. I told her, "Why don't we do what I want to do first and then we can do what you want to do." My sister agreed. After we played soccer I told her I was too tired to play dbz and that maybe we could play another time. The first couple times, she bought it. Then, she started to say to me, "That's what you said last time and you didn't do it!" I would then get mad and storm off. Sometimes I would hit her and others because hallucinations told me to, but this time was different. I chose to do this myself. I hit her. Under my own decision, I hit my sister. Some may argue that because the brain is different in schizophrenia, that I wouldn't have been able to see how socially that wasn't acceptable or whatever. In this specific case, I knew the difference. Schizophrenia is not always to blame.

Now, I still do things that are wrong, but I don't blame on schizophrenia as much as I do my own self centeredness or whatever. I've been known to toy with people's emotions in order to get what I want, I lie and am manipulative, and once again can be quite self centered. The difference now is that I am not afraid to admit to my short comings which leads to less anger.

So, if you are struggling with a mental disorder my only tip to you is to try and be as honest with yourself and a trusted family member, friend, psychiatrist, or psychologist. Don't beat yourself up. You do have a mental disorder, but you are also human. Being human means we are going to make our own mistakes. It may be tough and scary at first, but you can do it. Honesty with yourself can save a lot of stress and unneeded emotional outbreaks and confusion. This, however, does not mean that the things you do during psychosis or because of your disorder are your fault. Be honest, be patient, and communicate. You got this.
                                                                    Love, a schizophrenic

Hurt

People who have lived with someone with a mental illness or even personality disorder know how stressful it can be at times. You have to know the right things to say or the right things to do to avoid conflict or breakdowns on either side. You have to be able to keep the peace. Most people don't realize how hard that is until it is happening to them. Caretakers often get hurt emotionally by something a mentally ill person says, but they aren't "supposed" to fire back because it could end very badly. This topic came to me while I was playing a game on my phone. I heard a familiar voice say to me, "Because, not all girls are monsters like you!"
This familiar voice belongs to someone who helped out in my youth group when I first started going to church. Our youth group had taken a trip to the mountains. That many kids to be in charge of for 2 days is more than enough to upset people. Some of us were outside playing wiffle ball. I don't remember what I said, but I do remember always managing to say the wrong things just about anytime I open my mouth. Whatever I said, I wasn't meaning to harm anyone. I do know the comment was directed at this youth leader's daughter and I was asking her something. I remember standing there smiling after my question so whatever I said I know it was intended playfully. Thats when I heard him. "Because" was his answer, "not all girls are monster like you." I remember the confusion I felt. Why would he say that to me? I never expected anything like that from this man's mouth. I respected him because I thought he was kind. Did having to deal with me for 2 days make him that upset? I walked away and pretended it didn't bother me, but to this day 7 years later,  it still does. I try not to be a monster. I try not to use schizophrenia as an excuse, but sometimes it is actually schizophrenia's fault.

Another time, I was a bit younger, my sister and I were playing in our room. We were kicking and pushing each other off our bed. I had already had spankings and talking to's earlier that day. I didn't understand why I got in trouble for doing things the voices told me to do. "If they were so bad dad, why didn't you make them leave?" That was a question I used to ask him under my breath. My sister ended up falling off the bed and managed to grab my leg so I went down with her. She caught my leg on her chest and got up crying. She ran into the living room. Worried, I got up to go see if she was alright. My dad busted in the door angrily, grabbed me by my shoulders and began to jerk me back and forth screaming, "How do you like it?" Then, he threw me on the bed and stormed out. I just sat there crying wondering why everything I did was wrong and why people hated me so much.

In schizophrenia, and other mental disorders, people's thoughts sometimes don't make sense. Logic goes out the window and there is nothing that person can do about it. The mentally ill aren't always trying to be douches. My step mom used to get angry at me for self harm. The hallucinations I had made me do it. Zero, the little girl, would bite me if I didn't. Her bites hurt worse than the cuts it took to make her leave me alone. "You know you don't have to listen to them!" She would yell. Except, I did have to listen. Decision making, problem solving, logic, and so many other parts to thinking are disrupted with this disorder. Alot of the time, we really can't help what we say or do. You'd probably have the same reactions if you were in our shoes.

Emotions can be the same way. When people get super angry or hurt, things are said that just shouldn't be. Here are a few tips to caretakers to avoid hurt on both sides:
1: I've said this before, communicate and educate. Talk to each other. Share stories, thoughts, and SPEND TIME WITH EACH OTHER. Learn not just about the person's illness, but also about the person. The more you know about them when they aren't psychotic, the more you can help them when they are.
2: Try counting. When you get so angry you are ready to bust, try counting to 15 in your mind so you can think about wether or not what you have to say is helpful or not.
3: There are ways to get the point across to people without being rude. Take time to think about what you want to say and then find a nicer way of putting it. You are dealing with someone who is mentally ill. Excitment out of anger could easily land them hurt of back in a psych ward.
4: Maybe do some therapy sessions together. I would have loved it if my step mom or dad did this with me. My dad never wanted to because he never felt good. My step mom was afraid I'd been making her sound like a really bad person. It isn't my fault that is how she treated me. Regardless of how afraid you are, at least consider it. It may be helpful. Always talk to the person you are caring for and their therapist before actually doing this.
5: Take time for yourself. If at all possible do something nice for yourself. The sick aren't the only ones who need to be taken care of. Maybe you just need a vacation for a while. Maybe goto a spa or simply out to eat. The more you stay relaxed, the easier things will be.

Thanks for reading.
                                                     Love, a schizophrenic.

Common misconceptions

There is a difference between bi-polar disorder, schizophrenia, psychosis, and dissociative identity disorder.
Many people get them mixed up and if you are going to help or even be around someone with any of these, you should know the difference. So, let me help. To sum it all up:
Bipolar disorder=mood swings sometimes accompanied by psychosis (if the psychosis isn't during a manic or depressive state, it could be schizoaffective disorder). There are 2 different types. See a Dr. if you or anyone you know may have symptoms.
Schizophrenia=hallucinations(just because you have hallucinations doesn't mean you are schizophrenic and being schizophrenic doesn't mean you have hallucinations) ,delusions,paranoia,catatonia,confusion of reality and fantasy. If symptoms are present but not for as long it may be schizophreniform. There are many schizoid disorders. Once again, please seek help for yourself or anyone you know that may have this.
psychosis= some sort of hallucinations, maybe paranoia or delusions. Find help if someone you know or yourself may have this.
DID=multiple personalities. Seek help if you think you or someone you know may have this.
Going undiagnosed with anything like these conditions can be very dangerous, even deadly.

Why "natural" things don't always work for schizophrenia

"Insanity, then, is inordinate or irregular, or impaired action of the mind, of the instincts, sentiments, intellectual, or perceptive powers depending upon and produced by an organic change in the brain."

           http://www.schizophrenia.com/disease.htm 

"Many studies of people with schizophrenia have found abnormalities in brain structure. In some small but potentially important ways, the brains of people with schizophrenia look different than those of healthy people. For example, fluid-filled cavities at the center of the brain, called ventricles, are larger in some people with schizophrenia. The brains of people with the illness also tend to have less gray matter, and some areas of the brain may have less or more activity."http://psychcentral.com/lib/what-causes-schizophrenia/                

Schizophrenia is a genetic thing that is going to happen to people no matter what. I've been told so many times that I should quit medication and take more vitamins and drink more tea. NOTHING I DRINK OR EAT IS GOING TO FIX PHYSICAL ABNORMALITIES IN MY BRAIN. The people telling me these things aren't doctors. If that "natural" crap were the solution to all my genetic issues, scientist probably would have figured it out a looooooong time ago. 

That is all I really want to say. I don't know how else to put it. If you are interested, both of the sites I quoted and cited are very informative. I would recommend them. If you wish to find other sites, google schizophrenia or feel free to ask me in the comments. Thanks

                                                     Love, a schizophrenic

Life then and now

Schizophrenia, like many illnesses is one that doesn't just go away. For me, it started appearing at a young age. For others, it may not hit until late teens or even their 30's. When ever it hits it is devastating. I had a friend who was the top of his class all the way through high school, was a very hard worker, scored a 2150 on his SAT and had been accepted into Harvard. He began to act a little funny until 1 day he just quit moving. He didn't speak, eat, or drink anything. He just sat there with his head slightly angled to the left and looking down. "catatonic schizophrenia" his mom answered when I asked what was wrong. He was diagnosed just after graduation. He never made it to Harvard. He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday. He spoke to people that weren't there and cried for the demons to go away. He did things that didn't always make sense. He spent his days rocking on a chair in the back yard mumbling to himself no matter what I said. Then, he would go back to a psych ward. After a while, he'd be released and was  "expected to do well." He was never violent towards anyone, but I saw the scars on his arm. He, like me, made frequent trips to the psych wards. One day, I got a call from his parents. His mom was crying so loud in the back ground I could barley understand his father. My friend had hanged himself in their garage while his parents were at the store.
My story is a bit different though. Thank God. I was diagnosed at age 17, but had a long history of mental problems. I was never an outstanding student. I had a 3.6 or 7ish graduating high school and scored almost an 1800 on my SAT. I now go to a small private university. The road was rocky and had all ups and downs to begin with. I have had to take a year off to stay in a mental hospital. I have had to miss classes because the symptoms were too rough. I've attempted suicide on several occasions. I've been on several meds and on several meds at once. I've seen dr after dr. There is no way I can fully describe what schizophrenia can do to people. Now, by the grace of God and the help of friends, I am back in school and doing decent. Life is still a struggle, but it moves on and so will I.
Whoever you are, please keep moving on. I know life is tough, but what ever you are facing please keep moving. Life is not over yet so don't tell yourself it is. Things will get better.
Caretakers of those with mental illness, depression and fear aren't the only reasons people kill themselves. 75% of my attempts were because hallucinations told me to and I wasn't mentally there enough to reason and say no. You have to watch out for them. Help them. You won't always be able to reason with people, but you can get them help. Don't give up on them or yourself and don't let them do it either.
Take care of each other. Mental illness or not, it is our job as humans to take care of each other. Watch out for your neighbor.
                                                                     Love, a schizophrenic
                                       

5 ways to help people with mental illness

"Schizophrenia is characterized by by profound disruption in cognition and emotion, affecting the most fundamental human attributes: language, thought, perception, affect and sense of self."
           http://www.schizophrenia.com/ami/diagnosis/mrBIPOL.html#
Today, I am going to tell about the emotion part and inappropriate social skills. I'll start with a story.
I was 5 years old when my grandmother passed away. She was the best grandmother anyone could ever ask for and she did a fantastic job of spoiling me everyday. I remember sitting in the funeral. My mother was crying like a baby, my father's eyes were quite watery also. Both my siblings were crying too...as a matter of fact, most people in the sanctuary were crying. There was so much sadness everywhere. What was I doing? Laughing. I was laughing.
Another time, I must have been about 17 this time, I was gathered around the table eating with my family. We had just heard on the news that a young boy had died after getting hit by a car. He was learning to ride a bike and had just got his training wheels taken off. I almost died laughing.
I have several other stories such as these and some involve different emotions too. I was fussed at and punished for most of them. I didn't understand why I was in trouble. I didn't understand that I was doing something wrong. As I lay here in my bed today with a clear mind, I understand how those responses were viewed as inappropriate. I understand that my family didn't know I was all that mentally ill at 5 years old. However, at age 17...I had already been diagnosed and they had been told to educate themselves. I already had a hard time at school. I got strange looks from most people almost anytime I opened my mouth and most people thought I was very weird. I only had 2 friends that over looked my schizophrenia enough to hang out with me outside of school. I didn't want to explain to everyone that I was schizophrenic and to please be patient with me. I didn't want them to be afraid or thing I was weird either. I just learned to keep my mouth shut because somehow everything I said was wrong. I never did anything with anyone because I knew I would look weird doing it (catatonic issues) or I would 't be able to understand. The only time I really did do anything without hallucinations or delusions telling me to, was when I was with either of my only friends. It is already rough having to be schizophrenic at school, but also in a home with a narrow minded step mom? The dr had given them the papers and website addresses to educate them selves. I was just yelled at instead of helped. To this day, I cringe just about every time I think about her and get so full of anxiety anytime I am near her. Her narrow mindedness, ignorance, and UNWILLINGNESS TO LEARN blew any chance of a healthy relationship between the 2 of us. She wonders why I don't want to come home and why I won't talk to her. Besides the fact that she calls herself my "mother and not mom," those are the biggest reasons I don't like her.
Point of this post? EDUCATE YOURSELVES and learn about people and what they struggle with before you are a douche to them. I had strange emotional and social responses that might could have been worked through had someone been willing to help outside of therapy once a week.
Lots of people know someone with a mental illness. Here are a few ways to make life a tad bit easier.

1. Try to understand. Communication and education are keys to the same door.
2. Patients. Things may be rocky for a looooooooooooong time, but be willing to work with your loved one. They are the ill ones, remember?
3. Don't threaten them with a psych ward visit or thorazine. Believe it or not, this happens. People's brains can be ill too. They are sick. Look at points 1 and 2 again.
4. We don't always know what we need. We, as humans, can become selfish. We see things we want and try to get them even though they may not be good for us. We can become blind to our actual needs. We may become frightened for what ever reason and in return refuse what we actually need. If you know of someone that needs help, GET THEM HELP.  Be sure to re-read points 1-3.
5. Love them! You need it, I need it, and they need it. Love is the most important ingredients to this potion. Without love, humans are nothing. Remember to...

                                                                    Love, a schizophrenic

                                                                         

Story time 4 "the three continued....again"

So we left off with my "mission" of saving the land of Tyrenia, being complicated by being in a strict psych ward. Let me remind you, I really had no idea that all of the Tyrenia/ hallucinations weren't real. I didn't even know who or what was a hallucination or wasn't.
My Blue brought the 12 bunnies in to see me. He knew that I was alone and wanted me to have someone. One of the nurse came and stood in my room, "Candace?" he asked. "What are you talking to?"
"The bunnies. They're over here in the corner." I remember responding. He smiled and walked away. Not long after that, it was time for meds. I had been switched around so much that I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be taking anymore. "Candace, Dr. So and so has decided to start you on a medicine called" I don't remember what it was called. "Why am I here?" I asked them. "To take medicine." was the nurse scanning bracelets response. At that time it had occurred to me that I didn't know where I was or why I was there. I began throwing fits. I thought that the government had taken me for testing so that they could also go to Tyrenia. Mr Red kept telling me to fight. I tried to leave. I wanted to, but I kept forgetting everything. I had 0 consentration abilities. The other 4 people in the ward tried to help me. I know they did because I remember them.
One night, Mr Green appeared to me while I was sleeping. He told me the war was progressing. He told me it would be too late soon. I remember going with him to Tyrenia that night. We searched everywhere for pieces of a mirror to end the war. "Why can't you come to my world...forever?" I asked him. "We wouldn't be welcomed." He said.
I woke up and one of the other patients was praying for me. Another patient accused him of having the spirit of Enoch. I know he was just bi-polar. He was in a manic state and experiencing psychosis. "Why aren't they welcomed?!" I screamed as he left. "Try her on Latuda!" I heard from the other patient. She had the same Dr I did and heard me screaming. I tried to go back to Tyrenia and I tried to find pieces of the mirror everywhere. Nothing worked.
I felt so anxious that night. "I think I am going to pass out." I said to the nurse. "Well, lay down so yu don't fall." She said as she watched netflix on her hospital issued laptop. "Its the Latuda. I'm on it." Said the one girl. "I think they put you on it too because nothing else worked. THey were going to send you with me." She said. "Send me with you?" I asked. "To Broughton. I've been there before." She replied. To those of you who don't know, Broughton is a state mental hospital in Morganton, N.C. "patients name... Why don't you let her rest?" asked one of the orderlies. I fell asleep later. THe anxiety had me bouncing around so bad. I was taking 160 mg every night along with other meds. I wrote my Dr a note asking how I would be able to save their world if I was on that stupid medicine. That is why he upped the dose so quickly I guess. Days later, I quit going to Tyrenia. I went home instead. Sometimes, I still see the 3. THey told me the Latuda helped me find the mirror. They said the war was inside me. They said each of them was a different part of me. My personality traits that if fully exposed, people wouldn't like me. I wouldn't be accepted. The Love Mirror? I needed to find love within myself so that I could truly love and not have a war waging inside of me. That was their explanation. I still see them sometimes along with many other things, but that delusion has faded and new ones arose. Those are true stories for another time though.
                                                                     Love, a Schizophrenic