Christ_empowered
Member
Yes, yes; me, yet again.
"Recovery" is the new model for treating "severe mental illness." Here where I live, even what's left of the state hospital is run on the "recovery model," which emphasizes outpatient treatment over hospitalizations. Can be a good thing. For me, it often is, because I now have my parents solidly backing me. I do sometimes wonder about many other "patients," though...not that I'm a fan of hospitals (I'm not, at all...), but...at least they offered some people protection -from- society, right? And now even that's largely gone.
OK. That's neither here nor there. Thing is, I had all kinds of "treatment"--heavy electroshock, operations, etc. (I didn't sign up for all that, not that it matters--brain damage is brain damage, after all). And now...
well, I don't remember much, lol. The Lord spared me throughout, and when I finally got genuinely saved, He didn't have much to work with, but...He's gone above and beyond, for -me-, that's huge (for me...).
But...now I remember more. More past sins, more mistakes, more things that were done to me, and...wow. I got messed over, big time. Don't get me wrong; I committed sins and such, but..."weaklings" really -do- have a rough go of things.
I think my offical label/diagnosis is still (somehow...) "Bipolar I," mostly psychotic depression. Psychotic depression really isn't as scary as it sounds, its just...a particularly severe form of depression, that's all. Usually, it means some kind of tranquilizer with an antidepressant, and the long term prognosis isn't as good as for non-psychotic depression. A lot of people who develop psychotic depression at a young age are later diagnosed with--surprise, surprise--Bipolar I.
But...as I've gone on and on about before, I'm labeled as "Schizophrenic." The difference? Well, in terms of treatment and such, I don't think there is one, but in the community...big difference. To be labeled with "Schizophrenia" in this context is to be dismissed, invalidated, seen, but not heard; there, but...not -really- there, after all. Oh well. On the plus side, I get disability, and I'm learning that the world...never had anything good to offer me, not really.
"Recovery," for me, really means...transformation. My former "friends" are no where to be found; they have their own lives now, and they weren't really "friends" to begin with. My parents and I have reconciled, and they're the people who -really- matter to me, now.
I just...don't know. For all this talk of "severe NPD," I'm beginning to see and think that I was mixed up, messed over, sinful, and...thoroughly labeled, stigmatized, destroyed, and then blamed for all my problems, especially once the "experts" couldn't make more $$$ off my misery.
And for all this talk of "severe mental illness," I mean...I'll take the tranquilizer, that's cool and all, but...well, how does this situation even make sense? When I was -obviously- brain damaged and very sick, the "experts" tormented me and labeled me. Now, I somehow have a high(er) IQ estimate and I'm very healthy, but I'm (apparently...) "Schizophrenic." I don't get it, I really don't.
Verna and I talk frequently, often about aspects of this, and she says...take the tranquilizer for as long as you need it. When and if the time comes to stop, God will lead and guide you. She's a wise one, that Verna.
I know a lot of you keep me up in prayer, anyway. I thank you for it, I really do. A lot of this is just a much-needed growing up process. Long story short, I didn't grow up the 1st time...I even stopped growing, physically, in 9th grade or so (miracle! I'm now a decent height, btw...). Now, I'm "in the world, but not of it," and maturing, at long last. So...its not easy, not always. And there's something kind of bitter sweet about my so-called "recovery," isn't there? I clung tenaciously to my existence, and God spared me when I could've easily died and faced judgment. And now...
10 years after The Breakdown and subsequent shock "treatments" and the disastrous operation, 5 years after getting genuinely, truly saved...I'm a completely different person, and I'm thankful. I may never have a job, and that is...what it is. I was fully expected to be dead or in prison a while back, and I'm very much alive, healthy, and free, so...God is good!
I'm just hitting bumps in the road, that's all. Reality hits, and...wow. We all really -do- live in a Fallen World, don't we? The world never had much for me, anyway...I see that now, somewhat. Fake friends, drugs, brain damage, labels, ridicule...yup. Happens all the time, I see that now.
So, now...I'm 33 years old. Not deep in my youth, but not old, either. I'm healthy. My parents are kind to me. I receive disability, I may never have a j-o-b, especially around here, and...
well, the reality is...I never had much of a life. I existed, I didn't really -live-. I don't want to turn all psychobabble-y and blame it on "family dynamics," etc. A lot of it really was because of social factors. I was just another one of Society's Rejects, and a lot of it was because of a messed community, which is part of the larger Fallen World.
I just hope+pray The Lord will guide me towards something...something, lol. I don't know what. I have my parents, I have Verna as a -real- friend, and I have my faith in Christ. I have "everything I need for life and for godliness," and then a good bit extra, too. I guess part of my "recovery" is coming to terms with the world I live in, and the limitations of my own life, too.
OK. Thanks, as always.
"Recovery" is the new model for treating "severe mental illness." Here where I live, even what's left of the state hospital is run on the "recovery model," which emphasizes outpatient treatment over hospitalizations. Can be a good thing. For me, it often is, because I now have my parents solidly backing me. I do sometimes wonder about many other "patients," though...not that I'm a fan of hospitals (I'm not, at all...), but...at least they offered some people protection -from- society, right? And now even that's largely gone.
OK. That's neither here nor there. Thing is, I had all kinds of "treatment"--heavy electroshock, operations, etc. (I didn't sign up for all that, not that it matters--brain damage is brain damage, after all). And now...
well, I don't remember much, lol. The Lord spared me throughout, and when I finally got genuinely saved, He didn't have much to work with, but...He's gone above and beyond, for -me-, that's huge (for me...).
But...now I remember more. More past sins, more mistakes, more things that were done to me, and...wow. I got messed over, big time. Don't get me wrong; I committed sins and such, but..."weaklings" really -do- have a rough go of things.
I think my offical label/diagnosis is still (somehow...) "Bipolar I," mostly psychotic depression. Psychotic depression really isn't as scary as it sounds, its just...a particularly severe form of depression, that's all. Usually, it means some kind of tranquilizer with an antidepressant, and the long term prognosis isn't as good as for non-psychotic depression. A lot of people who develop psychotic depression at a young age are later diagnosed with--surprise, surprise--Bipolar I.
But...as I've gone on and on about before, I'm labeled as "Schizophrenic." The difference? Well, in terms of treatment and such, I don't think there is one, but in the community...big difference. To be labeled with "Schizophrenia" in this context is to be dismissed, invalidated, seen, but not heard; there, but...not -really- there, after all. Oh well. On the plus side, I get disability, and I'm learning that the world...never had anything good to offer me, not really.
"Recovery," for me, really means...transformation. My former "friends" are no where to be found; they have their own lives now, and they weren't really "friends" to begin with. My parents and I have reconciled, and they're the people who -really- matter to me, now.
I just...don't know. For all this talk of "severe NPD," I'm beginning to see and think that I was mixed up, messed over, sinful, and...thoroughly labeled, stigmatized, destroyed, and then blamed for all my problems, especially once the "experts" couldn't make more $$$ off my misery.
And for all this talk of "severe mental illness," I mean...I'll take the tranquilizer, that's cool and all, but...well, how does this situation even make sense? When I was -obviously- brain damaged and very sick, the "experts" tormented me and labeled me. Now, I somehow have a high(er) IQ estimate and I'm very healthy, but I'm (apparently...) "Schizophrenic." I don't get it, I really don't.
Verna and I talk frequently, often about aspects of this, and she says...take the tranquilizer for as long as you need it. When and if the time comes to stop, God will lead and guide you. She's a wise one, that Verna.
I know a lot of you keep me up in prayer, anyway. I thank you for it, I really do. A lot of this is just a much-needed growing up process. Long story short, I didn't grow up the 1st time...I even stopped growing, physically, in 9th grade or so (miracle! I'm now a decent height, btw...). Now, I'm "in the world, but not of it," and maturing, at long last. So...its not easy, not always. And there's something kind of bitter sweet about my so-called "recovery," isn't there? I clung tenaciously to my existence, and God spared me when I could've easily died and faced judgment. And now...
10 years after The Breakdown and subsequent shock "treatments" and the disastrous operation, 5 years after getting genuinely, truly saved...I'm a completely different person, and I'm thankful. I may never have a job, and that is...what it is. I was fully expected to be dead or in prison a while back, and I'm very much alive, healthy, and free, so...God is good!
I'm just hitting bumps in the road, that's all. Reality hits, and...wow. We all really -do- live in a Fallen World, don't we? The world never had much for me, anyway...I see that now, somewhat. Fake friends, drugs, brain damage, labels, ridicule...yup. Happens all the time, I see that now.
So, now...I'm 33 years old. Not deep in my youth, but not old, either. I'm healthy. My parents are kind to me. I receive disability, I may never have a j-o-b, especially around here, and...
well, the reality is...I never had much of a life. I existed, I didn't really -live-. I don't want to turn all psychobabble-y and blame it on "family dynamics," etc. A lot of it really was because of social factors. I was just another one of Society's Rejects, and a lot of it was because of a messed community, which is part of the larger Fallen World.
I just hope+pray The Lord will guide me towards something...something, lol. I don't know what. I have my parents, I have Verna as a -real- friend, and I have my faith in Christ. I have "everything I need for life and for godliness," and then a good bit extra, too. I guess part of my "recovery" is coming to terms with the world I live in, and the limitations of my own life, too.
OK. Thanks, as always.