So, a member of my family has been diagnosed with chronic psychosis—I think the actual term might be "acute psychosis," if I recall correctly. He had this massive hallucinatory episode about 7 or 8 years ago, and man, it was intense. He was convinced people were out to get him, so we basically packed up everything and drove all night long just trying to find a hotel where we could crash safely. We were constantly scanning the cars around us, terrified that "invisible spies" were following us or that some guys with needles were waiting around the corner to jump us and inject us with something. I was just a kid back then, and honestly? I was terrified. Eventually, we made it back and managed to get him admitted to a psychiatric hospital, where he stayed twice—once for a month and another time for three months. I found out later that he’d actually been talking about being persecuted for two or three weeks leading up to that day... it was all building up until it hit that peak, which was just one nightmare, unforgettable night for me. Since then, he’s been on medication and nothing like that has happened again. But—and here's the thing—the second his doctor tries to taper him down on the dosage, you can see the changes immediately. His gaze gets dreamy, foggy... it's like he's drifting off into another world. It breaks my heart because the meds make him seem so slowed down, like he just doesn't care about life anymore. Financially, we're doing okay—we have what we need and I’m content with that. He holds down his job. But God, I just wish he could have that spark back—that drive he used to have at work, that ambition, that sense of pride in what he accomplished. I miss when he could actually focus on the TV so we could watch games together and yell at the referees like total maniacs. And the social side of things... I wish he could socialize again. He feels so ashamed because people know about his condition, so he just avoids everyone. He used to be the life of the party! He had friends he’d play poker with, he was hilarious, easy to talk to, just fun to be around. Now? He just hangs his head and can barely manage a bit of small talk with acquaintances. I get it, I really do. This is a heavy illness and things might never go back to exactly how they were. I know plenty of people dealing with similar stuff who end up neglected, messy, losing their families, their jobs, their whole lives. And I know I should probably just be grateful that, hey, he's holding down a job, providing for the family, and blending in. But it eats at me—this passivity of his—even though I know deep down it isn't his fault. Part of me is being selfish and totally unaltruistic about it, but part of me is just sad because he seems so unhappy, so ashamed, so resigned to his fate. He's just lethargic, and I just want him to be happy and full of life. It’s such a horrible, helpless feeling.
I've been reading up on this, and it seems to me like there are a lot of similarities between this and schizophrenia. Is it possible he was prescribed the wrong meds? Or maybe the diagnosis itself is off? At his check-ups, the psychiatrist just looks at him for five minutes and decides whether to bump the dose up, down, or leave it alone. He even saw a private psychiatrist once, but he hated it—said the guy didn't listen to him at all. I'm wondering, are these kinds of illnesses "lifelong"? Is there actually any hope for a full recovery?
I totally get it. My family members look at me the same way, and trust me, wanting at least one family member to look at you with genuine care instead of pity is a struggle. I hardly watch TV at all these days. Even when I go to the doctor, half an hour feels like an eternity. Just realize that doctors don't really have all the answers either; that's just the truth. And I can tell you, those with psychotic symptoms are often just the same, but heightened and much more sensitive. That silence you see isn't usually because they're "slow"; it's often because of that sensitivity. It is possible that it's a lifelong thing. For instance, I deal with this debatable F-22 situation, and I spend two hours every single day just ruminating on how much this sucks. As for socializing, I see things differently. Not in a way that's harmful, but I don't think about it in terms of how to profit from it either. And there I go again! Once that manic energy hits, I can end up pulling all sorts of wild stunts over a six-month stretch.
Could some of you sane people give me a bit of advice on how to survive another fifty years? I tend to view myself as a problem, but honestly, the world I’m living in feels even more irrational than I am. I just can't seem to find any sense of meaning or consistency. I don't see much point in existing for my own sake—maybe just for others, like keeping my family from being in shock because I'm gone. Even my body is aching from the weight of this depression. I can't ever truly relax because I’m constantly on guard. Everywhere I look, I see boundaries and limitations—and in my case, they feel like very real physical constraints rather than just things playing tricks in my head. I'm grateful that modern medicine has made life a little easier for me. But lately, the struggle is just getting harder and harder. I don't get the feeling that my best years are ahead of me; instead, it feels more like... well, a total nightmare. But isn't that just what life is actually like? Isn't it?
Does the word "schizophrenia" carry a certain scientific weight? It certainly seems to possess a level of authority and charisma that can be quite dazzling. In his book Molecules of the Mind, Jon Franklin calls schizophrenia and depression " The Two classic forms of mental illness" (Dell Publishing Co., 1987, p. 119). Furthermore, according to the cover article in July 6, 1992, the Time magazine article says " fully a quarter of the nation's hospital beds are occupied by schizophrenia patients" (p. 53). This Time magazine article says " fully a quarter of the nation's hospital beds are occupied by schizophrenia patients" (p. 55). When you combine literature like this with those specific statistics, isn't it easy to see how most people are led to believe that schizophrenia is a tangible disease? In reality, schizophrenia might just be one of the great myths of our era.
In his book Schizophrenia - The Sacred Symbol of Psychiatry, Thomas S. Szasz, M. D., argues quite plainly, "There is, in short, no such thing as schizophrenia" (Syracuse University Press, 1988, p. 191). Similarly, in the epilogue of their book Schizophrenia - Medical Diagnosis or Moral Verdict, Theodor R. Sarbin, Ph.D., a psychology professor at University of California at Santa Cruz who spent three years working in mental hospitals, and James C. Mancuso, Ph.D., a psychology professor at State University of New York at Albany, conclude: "We have come to the end of our journey. Among other things, we have tried to establish that the schizophrenia model of unwanted conduct lacks credibility. The analysis directs us ineluctably to the conclusion that schizophrenia is a myth" (Pergamon Press, 1980, p. 221). Writing in 1988, the psychoanalyst Jeffrey Masson notes in his book Against Therapy that "There is a heightened awareness of the dangers inherent in labeling somebody with a disease category like schizophrenia, and many people are beginning to realize that there is no such entity" (Atheneum, p. 2). Instead of a legitimate medical condition, isn't it possible that "schizophrenia" is simply a catch-all category for behaviors, thoughts, or feelings that society—or even the individuals themselves—find deeply unsettling? There are precious few mental health issues that haven't been labeled as schizophrenia at some point. Because the term essentially encompasses anything perceived as socially unacceptable, defining it objectively becomes an uphill battle. Definitions tend to be incredibly vague or contradictory. For example, when I asked a physician who was the assistant superintendent of a state mental hospital to define the term schizophrenia for me, he with all seriousness replied "split personality - that's the most popular definition." On the flip side, a pamphlet from the National Alliance on Mental Illness titled "What Is Schizophrenia?" explicitly states, "Schizophrenia is not a split personality." In her 1985 book, Maryellen Walsh points out, "Schizophrenia is one of the most misunderstood diseases on the planet. Most people think that it means having a split personality. Most people are wrong. Schizophrenia is not a splitting of the personality into multiple parts" (Warner Books, p. 41). Even the official manuals have struggled with this. The American Psychiatric Association's second edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-II), released in 1968, defined it merely as "characteristic disturbances of thinking, mood, or behavior" (p. 33). Such a broad definition makes it difficult to exclude almost any behavior deemed "abnormal." In fact, Ernest M. Gruenberg, M. D., D.P.H., who chaired the APA's Committee on Nomenclature, admitted in the DSM-II foreword: "Consider, for example, the mental disorder labeled in the Manual as 'schizophrenia,' ... Even if it had tried, the Committee could not establish agreement about what this disorder is" (p. ix). The subsequent version, the DSM-III, was equally transparent about the confusion, noting that "The limits of the concept of Schizophrenia are unclear" (p. 181). By the time the 1987 revision (DSM-III-R) arrived, the manual noted: "It should be noted that no single feature is invariably present or seen only in Schizophrenia" (p. 188).The DSM-III-R offers a similar perspective regarding Schizoaffective Disorder, noting: "The term Schizoaffective Disorder has been used in many different ways since it was first introduced as a subtype of Schizophrenia, and represents one of the most confusing and controversial concepts in psychiatric nosology" (p. 208). The author, Lawrence Stevens, is an attorney who has experience representing psychiatric "patients." His pamphlets are not under copyright, so please feel free to make copies if you find them useful.
Douglas Brown4 said:It's basically the same thing as OPTIMISM. If you don't expect anything, you won't do anything. We wouldn't have any motivation, and honestly, we wouldn't even have anything to look forward to. We wouldn't really be living.
I think I know what you're actually asking: why do we enter relationships with expectations? Let's put it this way:
Do you expect your child to be healthy, get good grades, finish school, and be happy in life? Probably. It probably matters to you. Do you expect to be healthy and happy in your own life? Yes. Do you expect your partner to love you rather than treat you like a doormat? You do. Do you expect the sun to rise tomorrow? Definitely.
So, when my wife sends me texts saying how much she cares about me and how many things we have in common... I suppose I expect her to feel a certain way about me. I think that's the point.
People usually listen to that cliché about entering dating without any expectations. Sure. But then everyone just keeps their expectations secret, hiding them from the other person. I met one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen recently. Exactly my type. She does exactly what I do and loves everything I love. And she claimed she expected nothing. I warned her that I wasn't Jim Morrison. But once we met, suddenly that wasn't the case, and she'd rather break everything apart than ADAPT to that tiny difference. BECAUSE SHE had expectations. I didn't!
I’m mostly just hoping things don't turn out to be too bad!
I’ve been to Ribbon three times now, and honestly, it’s just not my scene. In Jacksonville, things are much better—there's a great crowd there and you don't run into any weirdos, though I haven't made it back since I started my medication.
Taylor Campbell4 said:1) I get it. But honestly, it depends so much on the individual and how they handle their diagnosis. They don't have to live in constant fear of the cancer—they just have to deal with it when they're undergoing chemo or getting scans. Most of the time, they can just live their lives normally. Personally, I wouldn't feel any more need to tip-toe around them than I would anyone else, meaning I wouldn't feel forced to act differently.
2) Is it because of the acting—your own, or theirs? Or maybe both? (Sorry, I’m a bit slow on the uptake today.) But I hear you—I’ve never been a fan of hanging out with people who put on an act, nor with those who make me feel like I have to be someone I'm not.
In relationships like that, it usually goes both ways. That’s likely why things fell apart.
Brian Moore2 said:I spent two months inpatient back in 1998, followed by another month in 1999, and let me tell you something: I am never stepping foot in a hospital ward again. 😉
I'm trying to do the math, but I think it happened about 10 times.
Frank Smith8 said:What does Cipralex actually do for you? It's pretty mild... I'm on Lithium and Prozac too, but honestly, it feels like nothing is working on me... I read somewhere that therapy doesn't work for about a third of people...
I’ve been taking Lithium for six years, as far as I can remember. And it’s true—medication just doesn't work for everyone.
I can't really afford to miss a dose; if I forget my Lexapro in the morning, the depression hits me like a freight train by the evening, so👎 Man, Risperdal made me feel absolutely terrible. Just awful. As far as I can tell, Lithium is a bit of a dry experience, but it's definitely the most effective option out there.
Taylor Campbell4 said:I get where you're coming from.
But look at it this way—and I mean this sincerely, because it’s a vital distinction to make— If you didn't view your entire identity through the lens of your diagnosis, you wouldn't even bother with the performance. If it were just a normal part of life to mention, or if there were a genuine need to bring it up, you would. But if there isn't a reason, you wouldn't say anything. And you certainly wouldn't feel the need to act.
It’s a struggle—everyone puts on a mask of some kind, myself included—but my goal is to stop performing and just be who I actually am.
Think about it: if you knew someone was battling cancer, how much more careful and mindful would you be when talking to them?😁 Because of that constant feeling of "performing," I actually avoid certain social interactions altogether. After all, I can't just forget about schizophrenia when I'm taking four different medications twice a day.
It feels silly to pretend, you know? Like if I’m hanging out with an old acquaintance at the beach and they already knew about my diagnosis two years ago. We only catch up once a year during summer vacation, so why play games?
I actually tried being upfront with one of my best friends once. I told her, "Look, you know I deal with schizophrenia..." And she just goes, "Yeah, I know. It's fine."
She’s a close friend, so that's why. Anyway, I'm bringing this up because people in Washington, D.C. can be just like that. Have you ever heard of briskgull27? They have schizophrenia, seriously!
So, I feel silly pretending to be okay when I'm clearly not!!!!!!!!
So, I was at this friend's wedding the other day, and my wife keeps nudging me, saying, "Come on, have a drink! Just one more!" I told her, "I really can't, I'm on medication." Then she goes, "Oh, like antibiotics?" and I had to clarify, "No, not for antibiotics—it's for my schizophrenia." She just gave me an "oh, okay, got it" look. Now, that was a bit of an outlier. Later on, my friend and I were just browsing some adult content online when her husband happened to walk in. But hey, that’s just how those types of people are. Honestly, though, it was such a lovely time overall.
At the end of the day, I just need to get everything sorted out in my own head. You know? Just to finally be truly cooooooooool.
Frank Smith8 said:briskgull27... I was wondering, do you get any disability payments on your account for schizophrenia? What other symptoms are there besides hallucinations?
Not yet—I'm still working and building up my years of service. As for the other symptoms: mania and depression.
It’s only 12:10 AM and this depression is already pulling at me. It starts at my chest and spreads all the way down to my elbows. When I sit back and think about it, I realize I spend way too much time dwelling on the wrong things compared to how "normal" people process life; my biggest obsession is just the fear that this illness is permanent. That’s what haunts me the most. And as time ticks by, it feels increasingly impossible to play any kind of role in society. I used to be terrified of ending up in hell if I took my own life, but now, I’m not even afraid of dying—especially after reading a post from someone on this forum describing how you can choke on your own vomit. People just fundamentally misunderstand this illness. Honestly, I’ve just stepped out of everyone's way entirely. I avoid people because they’re all busy living their lives while I—do nothing. Another thing is that nothing new interests me anymore; part of me wishes time would just stop, probably because all I see on the horizon is things getting worse. I’d give anything to turn the clock back to the early 90s. Clearly, it was just one long, failed attempt at growing up. Or, as my psychiatrist puts it: a parent's intelligence isn't some guarantee that they'll actually be good parents. Why did you even make me??????????? Idiots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I finally got the final word on my ECT treatment from my dad. I spent about a month at the Mayo Clinic, but I wasn't feeling any better. According to my dad, the medications they were giving me were strong enough to calm a horse, yet they didn't do a thing for me. Then, Dr. Medved and Dr. Jakovljević sat down with my dad to discuss things. They explained that taking that many different drugs could be harmful and suggested that ECT might be a safer alternative that wouldn't cause me harm. He agreed with them. He didn't even need to sign anything formal. So, I went through with the ECT sessions, and a month later, I was heading home. ECT stands for electroconvulsive therapy, also known as electrostimulatory therapy.
Gerald Rivera60 said:I might need to set up a little poetry nook just to house these songs... 🙂 Anyway, there was some debate going on here regarding ECT treatments—what people call electroshock therapy—and whether it’s still actually used today. I recently picked up the Psychiatry (textbook), written by Jerald Kay and Christopher Columbus, published in 2006. It states the following: Quoting a report from the American Psychiatric Association: "clinical evidence" (American Psychiatric Association, 2001). Then it says: "ECT has evolved from a treatment of first choice to often a treatment of last resort for DSM-IV schizophrenia" "The American Psychiatric Association Task Force on ECT (American Psychiatric Association, 2001) and the American Psychiatric Association (Enns and Reiss, 1992) identified a role for ECT as a second-line treatment for selected patients with schizophrenia, particularly when associated with a brief duration of illness and/or affective symptoms. It has been consistently found that the schizophrenic patients most likely to respond to ECT are those with good prognosis signs: mood disturbances, short duration of illness, predominance of positive rather than negative symptoms, and overexcitement (Fink and Sackeim, 1996)."
Naturally, ECT cannot be administered without written consent from the patient or their legal guardian. "clinical characteristics of ECT compared with other standard psychiatric treatments is the requirement for written informed consent by the patient or legal guardian or other substitute."
You can find similar info in Dr. Hotujac's online brochure about schizophrenia. It isn't referred to as convulsive anymore, but rather as stimulative. The brochure is printable, but I couldn't quite manage a copy-paste.
Gerald Rivera60 said:That isn't fear born from logic... that's an automatic response. Try to remember how often you feel fear as a reaction to thinking about a guy like that, versus how often the emotional reaction hits first, followed by the attempt to rationalize it. I suspect it's the latter far more often. The fear hits first. The reasoning comes later.
I totally get that. For instance, I feel that sudden flash of fear when some guy starts hitting on me, but you have to realize it still stings. I haven't built up an immunity to those reactions yet, and my goal is to become desensitized to them—just for my own peace of mind, if you know what I mean.
Oh, I know that feeling all too well! Back when things were more predictable, we had this one erratic neighbor. He was still around then, and once we actually crossed paths and had a brief conversation, he just stared at me so intensely that I couldn't wait to walk away. Have you ever felt that sudden urge to just escape a situation like that?