Noah Garcia4 said:Well, I do know that people with schizophrenia can be good in bed; I speak from personal experience. However, I don't know much about schizophrenic men specifically and their sexual prowess. What I do know about neurotics. 🤣
Honestly, whatever you say, I always found the attractive girls walking by way more interesting than my own group of friends. Every time I see a woman who is more attractive than myself, I fall right into an aggressive mood. I really need to figure out how to handle that, because it’s clearly not productive. Then again, I suppose depression isn't particularly productive either. Perhaps the best move is to just head home and try to mimic those looks—why not? 🥳 It might help pass the time.
But have you ever considered simply redirecting that internal aggression outward? You know, taking that energy and channeling it into something actually useful?
Turning aggression into something "useful" is easier said than done—it's a monumental task. Sure, you can suppress it with twenty pushups or... well, a few other private distractions, but that isn't "useful," and it certainly doesn't break any stigmas. You've actually given me something to chew on here... hmm.
Don't go copying anyone. You're at your best just being exactly who you are—good in bed, a little bit "off" in the head, and infinitely more interesting than 80% of those superficial types who only come out of hiding when the weather gets warm.
David Vaughn75: People who don't realize I'm schizo tend to smile at me; they find me interesting, both guys and girls. But the ones who actually *know* me... most of them keep me at arm's length.
I remember this one guy who killed a taxi driver, and the moment he got out of the psych ward, my crowd flocked to him—while I was treated like I didn't even exist.
Personally, I think the answer lies in love, but even that isn't a total cure—heaven knows it can bury you alive if you aren't careful—so I just watch beautiful women from a distance and deal with my mental baggage. God, what a mess.
David Vaughn75 said:I’m loving the flow of this thread so far. First I’m supposed to be some kind of genius, and now suddenly I’m a pro in the bedroom—talk about a wild pivot. 🤣
On-topic: what’s the harm in hanging out with folks dealing with schizophrenia? I mean, as long as they haven't totally lost their grip on reality, you can actually have a pretty decent time with them.
Sure, but let’s be real—people with schizophrenia tend to push away anyone remotely "normal" because, frankly, they find us bizarre. And from their perspective, we aren't exactly saints either; we're out here cheating on our partners with random strangers, hitting up the local dive bar for cheap beers every single night, and dealing with all sorts of questionable substances.
I totally get where you're coming from regarding trying to socialize with "normal" people—honestly, half the time I can't even wrap my head around them. And once I realize I'm just staring at them in confusion, I usually just tune out entirely and start scanning the local pub for some attractive women just to give my eyes a break from all those mundane, half-drunk faces. It’s not like you’ve descended into schizophrenia or anything; it’s just that the whole vibe was grating on you, and you couldn't stand it. Take me, for instance—I can manage maybe two or three sentences with a "normal" person before my mind starts drifting off into a daydream about... well, let's just say more shapely figures (it’s a tactical maneuver I developed to combat my own social anxiety)
Whenever I spot a guy who is significantly better looking than I am, I lose my grip—I either spiral into a deep depression or, occasionally, I just get straight-up aggressive.
If you ask me, there’s a very clear distinction between being high-strung and actually having a mental illness: you’re just nervous if you haven't had sex in a month or two, but you’re clinically unwell if it's been months or even years. That’s why they say people with real issues make the best lovers. Didn't you know that? It’s a scientific fact, really.
Noah Garcia4 said:And honestly, this was all perfectly on-topic. What am I supposed to do, go mingle with the anxiety crowd? 🤷 This forum is my little corner of the world, and every single one of my posts has stayed strictly focused on the concept of madness. 🙂 It’s not that I’m neurotic; it’s more that I’m psychotic. Not really—I mean, haven't you noticed we’ve been sticking pretty closely to the theme of insanity and schizophrenia? 😉
In fact, one of my colleagues over at the Mayo Clinic actually has every right to talk about madness—they host a page dedicated to those experiencing it, where people share their experiences just so others can truly understand what schizophrenia looks like.
Honestly, the very first thought that hit me when I woke up this morning was just... why even bother living? It’s been one of those mornings more times than I care to admit—dark, heavy, suffocating. But, being the coward that I am, I just swallowed my pills, lit up a cigarette, and sat there with my coffee until, suddenly, it clicked: "Wait, Larry Lewis, you’re actually doing alright. Stop talking nonsense." And just like that, the fog lifted. I felt fine—really fine—and spent the day actually engaging with people, enjoying their company for once. I found a spot out in the sun to grab a coffee and ended up watching these gorgeous girls walking by in next to nothing. I was just vibing, totally carefree—I even tossed a decent tip to the waiter, which is unheard of considering I don't have a steady paycheck right now. Then, on a whim, I decided to get a haircut. While the stylist was working away and chatting my ear off, I found myself completely distracted, staring at her curves and daydreaming. It was a pure, hedonistic blur of a day where I completely forgot about my illness and all the weight on my shoulders. But then, out of nowhere—boom. My head just imploded. All those peaceful thoughts collided into this disgusting, chaotic mess—a mental sludge that smells absolutely foul.
So, I’m asking you lot—my fellow lunatics—where does that sudden crash come from? Has any of you experienced this? That jarring shift from admiring beautiful women to feeling like your entire existence is just one giant, steaming pile of garbage?
Noah Garcia4 said:Well, can't I have my moments of sanity once in a while? 😁
I suppose, considering how "normal" has become such a wildly subjective—and frankly, terrifyingly broad—concept in this day and age, you might actually be right. 🤣
Noah Garcia4 said:I actually heard this back before I lost my mind—that the truly insane people are often brilliant, which is probably exactly why they ended up that way.🙂 🤣 ☕
Go ahead and worry yourselves silly, if you must.🙂
Noah Garcia4 said:Alright, that’s it—I’m retiring terms like schizophrenic, stupid, crazy, psychotic, or disordered. From here on out, I'm just using the word "sick." 🙂
Too little, too late—we all know exactly who you are now.😁
Noah Garcia4 said:Well, you aren't exactly a complete idiot, are you? 🤣 😉
Stupid?? How dare you even suggest such a thing!!🙂
If I actually sat down to catalog every single idiomatic blunder and lapse in judgment I've committed throughout my life—really took the time to audit them—I’d probably be stuck thinking about it for at least a week straight.
Noah Garcia4 said:It’s truly a shame that a whole crowd of people will read this and immediately think, "Oh man, this guy has completely lost his mind." A person is simply allowed to express an opinion. 😛
I'm not crazy—perish the thought—I actually have full-blown schizophrenia... or whatever it is you're implying, I haven't the slightest clue what you're getting at myself.😉
At the end of the day, we’re all just cogs in this massive, grinding machine—some of us happen to smell nice enough that the system harvests our essence to sell as overpriced luxury fragrances, while the rest of us? Well, the machine just flushes us down the drain like yesterday's trash. I honestly have nothing but contempt for this entire concept of "civilization" and every soul-crushing thing humanity has ever managed to build—and don't even get me started on God; I have plenty of thoughts there, but I suspect the moderators would ban me before I could finish my sentence.
Just keep consuming and bowing down... Hallelujah!
Schizophrenia can push a person right to the fringes of society—straight into poverty—and I have to ask, what happens to a five or six-year-old kid in that situation?
You all keep talking about how you can "function perfectly fine" with schizophrenia, but if you ask me—and believe me, I know plenty of people dealing with this—maybe 10% of patients can actually pull that off, if even that.
When a friend of mine was trying to land a decent job recently, his crew started feeding him all this nonsense about me and my condition, and of course, he backed out. It’s the same old story: I'm already screwed from the jump, and I don't stand a prayer of getting hired just because I carry this diagnosis. So, what am I supposed to do—provide for kids? How am I supposed to feed them?
If I manage to even put food on my own table in this life, I'll consider it winning the lottery.
It isn't enough that I'm suffering through this garbage; apparently, I also have to be "crazy" and liable to owe someone something for no reason at all. Honestly, please—spare me the theorizing and the statistics, because real life is something else entirely.
Noah Garcia4 said:Would you all agree with me that schizophrenia should be classified as a physical disease? I'm convinced it is.☕
Look, if a person is seeing or hearing things that aren't there—obviously—then something is physically malfunctioning in their brain. It’s basic biology. For me, the absolute worst part is this constant, exhausting instability—you know, those subtle shifts—where I might feel perfectly fine for two or three days, and then suddenly, boom, I’m totally spiraling for another two. It’s maddening. I can't tell if I'm unconsciously dragging myself down into a dark hole, or if I'm somehow accidentally pulling myself back up into a good state... it's just this endless, dizzying cycle. And honestly? Some days are even more erratic than others—I'll be doing okay for two hours, then crashing for two, then catching a break for one... it just goes on and on forever.
I mean, my brain chemistry is clearly a total mess, but at the end of the day, I’m still a person—I haven't lost myself entirely—and I think holding onto that is what matters most.
I just polished off the very last scrap of my neighbor's leftovers—honestly, I feel a bit guilty about it—so now I’m left staring at an empty fridge and wondering where on earth I'm going to find lunch tomorrow.🙂
The absolute worst part about dealing with this illness—if you can even call it that—is the crushing necessity to be more enlightened and far more patient than those "healthy" people out there... it’s truly exhausting🙂
Not much to report from my end—just the same old grind, different day, you know how it goes. Just wanted to let you all know I’m lurking and reading along, my friends.
Noah Garcia4 said:Oh, please. You still have those people who act like they couldn’t care less about you, pretending to offer this grand, unconditional love, only to vanish into thin air the moment things get real. They just evaporate. Personally, I’ve managed to hold onto quite a solid circle of old friends through it all.
As for what people think—let them. If someone decides to give me a side-eye simply because they’ve pegged me as "crazy," I'm certainly not going to waste my breath trying to convince them to drop their guard. If they insist on keeping that wall up despite my best efforts, then we're at an impasse. I’m not running a rehabilitation clinic for people clinging to their own prejudices. Some people just vibe with me, and some don't; the feeling is entirely mutual.
Regarding that sense of loneliness, it might just be a symptom of a deeper depressive slide. You can be standing in the middle of a crowded room in Manhattan and still feel completely isolated, don't you think? ☕
I can't quite put the feeling into words—it's probably just a bout of the blues.
The main thing is having someone to talk to when things get heavy. Besides, you and I have both basically earned PhDs in dealing with human prejudice and social stigma by now, haven't we? 😉
Anyway, I'm off to watch the game—Major League Baseball tonight. My buddies and I could probably take these guys if we were playing, but hey, the boys are giving it their best shot. I'll shoot you a private message if you're up for it, because I think you're actually worth having a real, honest conversation with.
Noah Garcia4 said:Once word gets out that you’re dealing with schizophrenia, the whole town starts treating you like you have a contagious disease. People tend to steer clear once they label you. It’s even worse if you’ve had one of those public outbursts; once you've been branded as someone who might snap, you effectively lose half your social circle before you even get a chance to introduce yourself. That’s just the cold, hard reality of how people operate. Loneliness is essentially a matter of subjective perception rather than objective fact. Even perfectly well-adjusted people experience those hollow moments, though they’ve usually mastered the art of rationalizing them away through various psychological defense mechanisms. On the other hand, you have certain individuals who simply don't feel lonely at all—not because their lives are objectively crowded, but because their internal compass just doesn't register the void, making the sensation entirely non-existent to them.
When I first fell ill—it was quite the shock, honestly—I lost pretty much every single friend I had. It hit me like a freight train. Nowadays, though, I've managed to cultivate a few genuine friendships—real quality people—even though they are fully aware of my diagnosis.
I don't spend my days agonizing over what everyone thinks of me anymore; I used to care deeply, which was its own kind of misery, but I've moved past that.
Humans are social creatures by design, so feeling lonely every now and then is perfectly normal. But I wasn't talking about that kind of loneliness—the sort that feels more like boredom. I mean that heavy, suffocating, hopeless isolation that stems from the illness itself. It isn't necessarily about a lack of company or being alone in a room; it's something deeper, something internal... who knows, really? It's hard to put a finger on it.
Though, if I'm being honest—and I suppose I am slightly self-sabotaging here—whenever a coffee date or a hangout gets pushed back, it's usually because I was the one who delayed it in the first place.🙂
What do you all think—is it that our illness actually makes us more isolated, or is it just some kind of psychological trick playing on our minds? I mean, what the hell is the real reason? Because whenever I’m out walking down the street, I honestly feel like I just landed here from Mars.🙂