Christ_empowered
Member
Mental illness is real. Its also...hard to deal with. My diagnosis is severe Bipolar I w/psychosis. I don't know how that's different from schizophrenia or schizoaffective, or why diagnosis really matters, but...there it is: Bipolar I.
My parents just left for work. My dad came home for lunch, my mom had been working from home and now she's going into the office. there's this distance between us...not just because of who I was and what I did, but because of who I am...The Other, that offspring who has mental problems and lives here...
There's a growing gap between me and my so-called "friends" from way back when. Graduate school, jobs in Atlanta, marriage, a kid or two....on and on it goes. Me? Well, what happened depends on whom you ask. The former shrinks--the ones who shocked me and made fun of me in public, talked about my "rinky dink middle class" family, etc.--say I was "severely narcissistic" and now I have "Schizophrenia."
My current counselor says I've had probs since childhood and this is the longest I've ever been stable, lucid, not "out there" in any major way. They ask about "manic symptoms" and "depressive symptoms," whereas these other people were all about punishment ("he needs to feel pain!," "humbling experiences," etc.).
Either way...I've got the mental probs now. The voices have largely dissipated. I hear whispers sometimes...that's often what tranquilizers do, reduce in your face psychosis to something more manageable....and I don't freak out, because tranquilizers also help you stay calm. This is apparently the best Mental Health, Inc. can do for those of us with severe problems...fancy new tranquilizers. Now that's what I call progress!
On the plus side...a lot of my discomfort is probably just waking up to...life. reality. Its odd...floating through life in a haze from "too much electroshock" is a horrible way to live...waking up from it, if that's what you can call this...is hard, too, for different reasons.
So...I know many of you pray for me anyway (I'm praying for you, too), but there it is: another prayer request, actually...mixed with a Praise Report. I realize now that I was once, not so long ago, so far gone that I didn't know I'd a) been annihilated by shock and b) was sick-er than ever. Now, I've largely "recovered from treatment," which is a miracle in and of itself, and I'm better able to spot my affliction rearing its ugly head than in the past, when I just rolled with it in my fairy land.
Praise God for bringing me this far, and I ask that God keep on working in my heart+life so I can do...something...with my life.
Thanks
My parents just left for work. My dad came home for lunch, my mom had been working from home and now she's going into the office. there's this distance between us...not just because of who I was and what I did, but because of who I am...The Other, that offspring who has mental problems and lives here...
There's a growing gap between me and my so-called "friends" from way back when. Graduate school, jobs in Atlanta, marriage, a kid or two....on and on it goes. Me? Well, what happened depends on whom you ask. The former shrinks--the ones who shocked me and made fun of me in public, talked about my "rinky dink middle class" family, etc.--say I was "severely narcissistic" and now I have "Schizophrenia."
My current counselor says I've had probs since childhood and this is the longest I've ever been stable, lucid, not "out there" in any major way. They ask about "manic symptoms" and "depressive symptoms," whereas these other people were all about punishment ("he needs to feel pain!," "humbling experiences," etc.).
Either way...I've got the mental probs now. The voices have largely dissipated. I hear whispers sometimes...that's often what tranquilizers do, reduce in your face psychosis to something more manageable....and I don't freak out, because tranquilizers also help you stay calm. This is apparently the best Mental Health, Inc. can do for those of us with severe problems...fancy new tranquilizers. Now that's what I call progress!
On the plus side...a lot of my discomfort is probably just waking up to...life. reality. Its odd...floating through life in a haze from "too much electroshock" is a horrible way to live...waking up from it, if that's what you can call this...is hard, too, for different reasons.
So...I know many of you pray for me anyway (I'm praying for you, too), but there it is: another prayer request, actually...mixed with a Praise Report. I realize now that I was once, not so long ago, so far gone that I didn't know I'd a) been annihilated by shock and b) was sick-er than ever. Now, I've largely "recovered from treatment," which is a miracle in and of itself, and I'm better able to spot my affliction rearing its ugly head than in the past, when I just rolled with it in my fairy land.
Praise God for bringing me this far, and I ask that God keep on working in my heart+life so I can do...something...with my life.
Thanks