Christ_empowered
Member
(this is also the title of a REALLY good book...check it out sometime, if you get the chance)
Being "crazy" in the US isn't fun. I'm in recovery from a severe psychotic episode. My diagnosis is a severe form of Bipolar Disorder, probably because I have upper middle class parents behind me and I'm too lucid to make the case for schizophrenia.
Anyway, its like this....back when I was stupid and could have used a mental hospital (even a state mental hospital, honestly), docs around here pulled out the Freud. Dude has narcissism. Now that God's been healing me, has largely healed me, and, I pray, will continue to heal and transform me, I now have "schizophrenia," according to some angry ex-shrinks (did I mention that I got the medical board involved?).
To be "schizophrenic" (even when your shrink says its bipolar) is to be a 3rd class citizen. I'm perceived as stupid, as sub-human, as an untouchable. All my issues are explained away in terms of meds, or lack of meds, or the need for a hospital. Never mind that I'm remarkably stable, my IQ is up, and I'm actually recovering. Nope. Doesn't matter. I'm "schizophrenic," by popular demand.
To make things worse, people in my very small, very southern small town, blame me for my madness. Never mind that I had pre-crazy written all over me as a kid (socially awkward, spent too much time alone, physically inept, early onset severe depression with some psychosis). No, it doesn't matter. I'm "crazy" because I was apparently a promiscuous sissy. Crazy because I popped too many pills. Crazy because that's what I deserve.
Its...well...crazy-making, honestly. Here I am, minding my own business. I have to live with parents because the neighbors at my apartment were throwing things at the place and stealing my mail. I have to receive disability because no one will hire me. Ugh.
I'd love to move...but where? My option is an online degree, get some funds from my parents, and move in a couple years.
You know what's really terrible? If my parents weren't behind me, I'd be in prison or a state mental hospital, or at least on a court order, involuntarily receiving massive doses of antipsychotics.
That's what its like to be Mad in America, at least around here, for me.
Being "crazy" in the US isn't fun. I'm in recovery from a severe psychotic episode. My diagnosis is a severe form of Bipolar Disorder, probably because I have upper middle class parents behind me and I'm too lucid to make the case for schizophrenia.
Anyway, its like this....back when I was stupid and could have used a mental hospital (even a state mental hospital, honestly), docs around here pulled out the Freud. Dude has narcissism. Now that God's been healing me, has largely healed me, and, I pray, will continue to heal and transform me, I now have "schizophrenia," according to some angry ex-shrinks (did I mention that I got the medical board involved?).
To be "schizophrenic" (even when your shrink says its bipolar) is to be a 3rd class citizen. I'm perceived as stupid, as sub-human, as an untouchable. All my issues are explained away in terms of meds, or lack of meds, or the need for a hospital. Never mind that I'm remarkably stable, my IQ is up, and I'm actually recovering. Nope. Doesn't matter. I'm "schizophrenic," by popular demand.
To make things worse, people in my very small, very southern small town, blame me for my madness. Never mind that I had pre-crazy written all over me as a kid (socially awkward, spent too much time alone, physically inept, early onset severe depression with some psychosis). No, it doesn't matter. I'm "crazy" because I was apparently a promiscuous sissy. Crazy because I popped too many pills. Crazy because that's what I deserve.
Its...well...crazy-making, honestly. Here I am, minding my own business. I have to live with parents because the neighbors at my apartment were throwing things at the place and stealing my mail. I have to receive disability because no one will hire me. Ugh.
I'd love to move...but where? My option is an online degree, get some funds from my parents, and move in a couple years.
You know what's really terrible? If my parents weren't behind me, I'd be in prison or a state mental hospital, or at least on a court order, involuntarily receiving massive doses of antipsychotics.
That's what its like to be Mad in America, at least around here, for me.