ruggedtinker9 said:I have been two years without any bouts of psychosis now... I am currently on 5mg of olanzapine, though I barely even feel the effects of the medication itself... Perhaps it calms me down slightly in the evening, which I suppose is fine. I have managed to find a job, I am in a relationship, I live on my own, and I handle all my responsibilities; I have also started taking certain supplements that seem to assist me by providing great energy, focus, and a sense of rejuvenation, or so it feels to me. I am not experiencing depression or any cognitive issues—essentially, there are no positive or negative symptoms. A great deal can change in the span of two years, and I believe the worst thing one can do is fail to try or lose faith that things can actually improve. More devastating than anything else is the treatment process for that crisis state known as psychosis. Even the psychosis itself isn't the most terrifying part; rather, it is the way people treat those who are in such a state. I hope I won't experience psychosis again, as my doctor wants to taper me off my medication, but I don't feel quite ready for that step yet. Furthermore, I suspect that the entire "mental illness" sector is somewhat exaggerated; I still maintain the view that mental illnesses aren't true diseases, but rather specific mechanisms for coping with life itself.
You have unconsciously opened up a topic that I have been trying to write about with such dread, constantly delaying it... I don't even know why myself.
I am convinced that mental illnesses are, in some way, curable. At least, that is how I have come to perceive it.
But regardless of that... every single day, I find myself becoming more and more convinced that this might actually be the case. I cannot claim it as an absolute fact, but certain things suggest to me that this could be one of the alternatives.
It concerns the number of neurons connected within what we call neural circuits. Now, it isn't vital to know exactly how they are grouped, but generally speaking, groups of neurons constitute neural systems.
By grouping these systems, you get systems-of-systems.
So, when neurons become active—using the jargon, "firing"—an electrical current travels from the cell body to the synapses, and that is where the release of chemical compounds, namely neurotransmitters (like glutamate, for instance), begins.
Through interaction with neighboring neurons—the synapses—it is determined whether the adjacent neuron will activate.
Perhaps it seems somewhat complicated at first glance, but in reality, it is quite simple.
There are over 10 billion neurons and 10 trillion synapses! (since every single neuron can have up to 1,000 synapses).
And this brings me to the reason why I am writing.
Because of this massive number of neurons and synapses, a neuron can only "communicate" with its neighbors—which means a very small subset of neurons—and never with the majority or all of them at once.
Logic dictates that if one group of neurons is damaged, it only communicates with the immediate neighboring groups.
Which means, if we are talking about a specific disorder, it is localized to just one small cluster of neurons, certainly not to a large portion or the entire system.
When medication stimulates normal function and the exchange of neurotransmitters, the illness is essentially bypassed. Neuronal communication stabilizes. It returns to normal operation.
We might still possess the awareness (or rather, the subconsciousness) that we were ill, but that is not the true state of the organism.
The illness is then gone. We don't have it.
It is worth reflecting upon.
