schizophrenia
Schizophrenia 101; look beyond the pop culture portrayals and learn the reality behind this oft-stigmatized mental illness.
Psyched Out
It took a while to begin to explain the weight of what was welling up and festering as it grew inside of me. It can be hard to relay the struggles of an ill-diagnosed or misdiagnosed mental illness to other people when everything on the outside is a typical life in their eyes. However, nothing was typical about the games my mind would play on me to make me feel as if everything was constant danger, and that I had never really escaped one of my biggest fears; losing the people I love due to ties with the military. With only four years of military experience and one tour in Afghanistan, it was hard to come back. Even though I was never engaged in actual warfare with the bombs and shootings laying a little outside the lines where I was stationed, there was not much solace that could be sought in the small clinic where we worked to return soldiers back ready to fight from what conditions had been ailing them. I never thought that once stepping on the plane headed back stateside that I would be carrying a burden with me over the next seven years. I was living a life with a misdiagnosed mental disorder, and it was seeking to sweep me from under my feet right in front of the people I loved the most with no reserve for the fears of my family, or the tugs of mental sanity I tried to keep peace with.
By Jacquelyn Richardson4 years ago in Psyche
Sticky Labels: A Short Story
This short story and analysis was originally written for my University dissertation. As I’ve now graduated, I wanted to do more with this piece than letting it sit idle in my writing folder. I am not an expert on mental health; reasoning for details included in the story can be found through the analysis underneath. Everyone’s experience is different, and I in no way mean to stereotype or insult a person who suffers from any sort of mental health condition.
By Jade Hadfield4 years ago in Psyche
Living With Schizophrenia
This post contains content that may be triggering to some. Hi friends, just seeking some advice and to hear if any of you have experienced anything similar. It’s a bit of a dark place for me that I’ve been in, in some ways and so here it goes.
By Jessica Wilson 4 years ago in Psyche
Rebirth
It’s been about a year since I’ve had to chew and swallow your bits and pieces. Every now and then I feel the after effects of the narcissistic abuse you've given to me, and sometimes it's as simple as me noticing someone with a full head of curly brown hair. The post trauma picks at my scabs and leaves them wide open and bloody, never fully healed. I’ve developed a refined acquired taste for buttered over-burnt edges and bitterness. The hostility turned into familiarity turned into clarity. I took the smell of salt water home with me after all the days I spent emptying my obsession into repression into depression. Anything you’ve ever touched has been burned because you won’t be here to touch any tangible material again. I still smell your breath the night you pushed me into traffic and dared me to move a muscle. Precariously, I tuck myself tightly into bed, just incase you pull the sheets out from under me. I've told you before; it's not a magic trick if I don't disappear.
By Nicole Cafarelli4 years ago in Psyche
She Is No Longer Herself
She sits in the chair in the dining room, so small and frail. I can't help but wonder what she is thinking about. Her eyes are red and swollen as she stares at the floor transfixed to one particular spot. She makes no movements for what seems to be hours. Almost as if she is hypnotized in a trance, I snap my fingers to see if she will come back to reality. Is she being haunted by the trauma of her past, or has she always been this way? I ask her what she is thinking so hard about and she replies with the same answer she always does, "NOTHING". I don't want to anger her by asking any further questions so I walk away and let her be.
By Joyel Joyel Kowalski4 years ago in Psyche
Blood and Chocolate
“Today is Friday the 30th, 2021. The time is 1:30AM. I’m detective James Marllow. Badge number 3580. Sitting with me is Eric Porter. Hello Mr. Porter. I ask that you acknowledge that the interview is being recorded and that you consent to the recording.”
By Shayla Beesley5 years ago in Psyche
Peace
I wake up and the need to put my thoughts in order construes to the blank sheet of paper that’s right in front of me. How can I determine how I feel in words that can only explain so much but explain everything at the same time? It’s like the meaning of love, an easy thing to get into that can bring you a sense of belonging and peace. I enjoy writing about mental illness because it’s what I experience. It’s a matter that is controversial to society but internally devastating to someone experiencing it. My experience was like no other when I was going through it. It was like my mind took over my entire being and controlled everything I thought and said. It’s not something that I feel is necessary to be judged by. It’s not something that should be poked by blame for. It’s something that should be seen like any kind of disease. It’s like having a tumor in the brain, you take medication to devour it, to shrink the mass that is holding back the person’s ability to function correctly. It just occurs relentlessly and freely in the mind. Where no one knows how it occurs or why. But it is an experience like no other and perhaps its partially psychological because its unique to the persons experience in life. However, it is still unknowingly occurring in good people. The mind is not who you are, it is like a navigating device determining, analyzing, and experiencing who you want to be. When I journal, it brings me a sense of eye-opening experiences because not everything I think and feel makes sense. That’s the downside to having schizophrenia it injures the mind and makes everything you experience seem hindering. I can have a thought that I’m worthless and the voices take over and I get the choice to agree. Yet, sometimes I don’t even know why I think this way. It isn’t something that I’ve done or said that has allowed me to go down the path of self-destruction. But rather a feeling of worthlessness. Where does this feeling come from? I think it comes from the chemical imbalance in my brain that is disturbing the chemicals that allow me to feel the right way. You see it’s all a science and not a spiritual disconnection with god. It should not be stigmatized. It is something I have to deal with on a regular basis because there has been more stigmatizing then trying to find answers to what is happening in the mind. It has to be more than a chemical imbalance because there are people who take up to ten medications and still, they hallucinate and hear voices that disturb their everyday life. It’s easy to think the intrusive thoughts that happen in my mind are something that is real because everything you experience in your consciousness is created in your subconscious. Everything that occurs In your mind is the experience you face in life. So, at first you can’t help but believe it’s all true. But with care and wisdom you realize its one experience you face in life and don’t have to make it your reality even though its disturbing. I don’t wish this illness on anyone it is hard to come out of when it’s something you face every day not knowing when the voices will occur or when you’re going to hallucinate. With great support and medication, you can choose to believe it Is just a disease that is medical and physical. Although there are still people out there who believe it’s a spiritual occurrence and that is easy to believe, its only detrimental to the person experiencing this to believe that. The reason is because it’s easy to feel like you’re being punished by something beyond you. Believing that will cause a feeling of not wanting to exist. So, with great care I want to illustrate that it’s important to realize it is a brain disease and nothing more that brings me too a sense of peace and realization.
By Cerina Galvan5 years ago in Psyche
The Witness
I woke to the feeling of a hundred hands. They surround me, holding me, lifting me towards the surface of my self. I continue forward, opening my eyes to the light of the world. My perspective shifts as I lift my left hand from the black polyhedron. As I sit up to a room of rust, an ominous picture hangs just before this room's passageway. Their bones undisturbed on a rusty ski lift, no semblance of fear in their being; it must have happened in an instant. The solitude of these heights.
By Tyler Chase5 years ago in Psyche
