wiredmason56 said:That’s true, I guess, but who really sits around worrying about that stuff when they’re feeling great? Honestly, I was just thinking about it while I was hanging out at a backyard BBQ—like, is a piece of candy or a soda really going to mess me up? Everything felt awesome at the time. The idea that I could end up picking up some kind of mental health issue from that... it never even crossed my mind.🙄
Oh, absolutely—but let's be honest, even back then we all knew that drugs weren't exactly some magic pill that makes you sharper or healthier... yet we just didn't care. We were reckless, plain and simple—driven by that specific kind of youthful, misguided bravado—and now? Well, look at us. Now we're left dealing with the fallout of our own bad decisions. I am absolutely, 100% convinced—beyond any shadow of a doubt—that I certainly didn't spend my years messing around with drugs just to end up sitting here today with a college degree and a functional, "normal" life. It’s almost absurd when you step back and look at the trajectory—really think about it—how we stumble through those chaotic years only to land, somewhat miraculously, in the middle of a structured existence. It feels like a cosmic joke, honestly. Lord, we certainly paid a premium price for that youthful recklessness—and I don't mean just in dollars and cents, either. It’s one of those things you only truly grasp once the bill comes due—which, in my experience, is always much later than you'd like—and the cost is far higher than any sensible person would have ever budgeted for.
Mental health struggles run deep in my family line—it’s practically part of our DNA—and, if I’m being honest with myself, I didn't exactly help matters back in the day. I spent my younger years experimenting with just about every substance under the sun, which, looking back through a much more cynical lens, was essentially just fuel on the fire for developing these issues.
Honestly, I’ve got this nagging feeling that drugs aren't some foreign concept to you—what you're going through right now is clearly the result of substance abuse, hanging out with the wrong crowd, and just... frankly, poor life choices.
So, wiredmason56, were you out there experimenting with substances back in the day—you know, during those rebellious high school years when everything feels like a revolution?
I’ve dealt with some symptoms that look remarkably similar to yours—actually, almost identical, really—but ever since I started my current regimen, they've completely vanished.
Look, nobody wakes up in the morning feeling thrilled about the realization that they need antipsychotics to function, but if you ask me, you might need to move past a baseline dose and try something a bit more substantial.😢
rapiddriver23 said:Guys, I honestly can’t wrap my head around the fact that my brother has been hitting these extreme manic episodes almost every single month for nearly two years now. It’s happening right this second—he’s just spent the entire day screaming at the top of his lungs, ranting about fascism, claiming everyone is out to get him, and throwing insults at everyone... calling people names, being hateful toward the LGBTQ+ community, you name it. ALL. DAY. LONG. I am just so drained... again... Honestly, if this keeps up, I’m going to end up sick myself. Yesterday they bumped his dosage from 9.5mg up to 15mg, but does it usually take a few days for that to actually kick in? And man, I just have this sinking feeling that he’ll never be stable again. Two whole years!? This is just... wow.
Also, quick question—he’s an American citizen, but he hasn't lived in the States for long and doesn't have much of a work history. He’s currently on unemployment, but let's be real, he’s probably never going to hold down a job. Does he have any rights to specific social services or assistance here in the US?
I'm feeling pretty hopeless...
It’s all so surreal. On the outside, I seem totally fine—outgoing, easy to talk to, and everything—but inside, I’m just crumbling because of what we're going through.
Check out the thread regarding work capacity and guardianship, and good luck to both you and him.
Noah Garcia4 said:How am I supposed to play the nice guy here? Lithium is an incredibly heavy-duty medication. We're talking about serious, intense chemistry. Larry Lewis and I were essentially trying to point out that there’s virtually no chance someone who has experienced psychosis and been prescribed antipsychotics will just magically walk away from them for good and live a perfectly normal life. That would be what you call a total cure. I’m not sure if that makes sense to you now. I think that’s exactly what Larry Lewis meant when he used the term "cured."
Yes, that’s exactly what I meant when I used the word "healing"—though, looking back, maybe that was an optimistic choice of words. I decided to cut my dosage in half just to see what would happen—purely out of curiosity, I suppose—and by the fourth or fifth day, things had already gone south. It wasn't even about whether I was actually taking the pills or not; it was more about the temperament... I didn't find myself cursing at the walls or losing my cool like I usually do during those few days, but let me tell you, it certainly wasn't "better."🙂 So, there you have it—the brain is broken, and that’s just the cold, hard reality of the situation. It’s all very simple, really, if you can stomach the simplicity of it—though I suspect most people find the whole thing far too complex to actually face. One's mind malfunctions, the gears grind to a halt, and suddenly you're left staring at the wreckage of your own cognitive processes. It’s a grim business, isn't it? Just... that's it. End of story.😢
Noah Garcia4 said:I think it’s about time we finally established once and for all on this thread that schizophrenia is a legitimate physical brain disease. Essentially, the neurotransmitters in the brain aren't functioning the way they should, which then manifests through behavior; however, unlike other medical conditions where you might see visible physical symptoms on the body that anyone can spot with the naked eye, people don't see the internal disruptions in the brain. With schizophrenia, there is no way to actually witness the brain malfunctioning, yet that is precisely what is happening under the surface. Instead of acknowledging that reality, everything gets wrapped up in vague labels like "psychosomatic issues," when in truth, the problems are purely physical in nature.
For instance—and I've experienced this myself—I'll go to bed feeling perfectly fine, my head in a good place, only to wake up gripped by this overwhelming, crushing anxiety. And don't even get me started on the dreams. It's exhausting. I try so hard to stay positive and act "normal"—which is a massive uphill battle—but it isn't a matter of willpower; it feels like some internal force is just forcing me to feel miserable. I mean, it's not constant, but I definitely spend more time feeling low than high, or maybe just hovering somewhere in the middle. I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm not living a life of sin, so I truly believe your theory is spot on.
I know plenty of people living with schizophrenia, and honestly—if I’m being completely blunt—not one single person I’ve met has ever truly been cured.
Noah Garcia4 said:He’s been MIA for three days now 🙄🙄🙄, so I finally went ahead and printed out the summons—though why I didn't do that sooner is anyone's guess—and apparently, he’s been cheating on me for three years straight (which he finally admitted) 🙂I'm just trying to hold it together while dealing with a guy who acts like some two-bit abusive thug Honestly, I’m genuinely curious what the people reading this think—you know, the ones who are out there doing the exact same thing, whether it's being unfaithful or just being an absolute jerk... or maybe both 🙂🙂☕
driftinggull21 said:Feel free to elaborate; I believe diverse experiences are valuable, even from an observer's perspective.😉
It feels almost ungrateful—if you can even call it that—to attempt to write about this particular affliction, given how uniquely it manifests in every single soul; there isn’t some magic, universal remedy to make a person feel whole again. But I will say this much—and I mean this with absolute sincerity—if that young man is left to navigate this alone, without a solid foundation of support or genuine empathy, then he’s in for a brutal uphill battle. It’s a grim reality, frankly, but one we can't ignore.
Sam Williams6 said:Hey everyone, I decided I should probably share my experience dealing with schizophrenia: It all started last summer, beginning as this heavy cloud of depression and anxiety—I just slowly lost interest in everything. My boyfriend at the time (we had been together for two years) kept accusing me of being lazy and just acting out, so I ended up breaking up with him around October. Things really spiraled during the Christmas season—I went out with a few friends to a club in downtown Chicago, and while it seemed like a normal night out at first, as the hours passed, I started losing touch with reality. I want to be clear: I wasn't drunk, and I hadn't taken any drugs. Suddenly, every sound started blending together like a massive swarm of voices inside my head, and my vision became blurry, almost like I was watching a slow-motion film... eventually, I ended up sitting on the floor, screaming and pulling at my hair. 🙂 Luckily, a friend noticed what was happening, got me out of there immediately, and took me back to his place. The next day, I felt completely exhausted, confused, and lost... when I finally explained everything to a psychologist, she told me that hospitalization was unavoidable. So, within a week, I found myself admitted to a psychiatric ward at a major hospital in the city—specifically the tenth floor (back in 2008, my mother was also on that same unit due to chronic depression). I have to admit, the stay actually surprised me in a good way—the staff was great, the atmosphere was positive, and the nurses were gentle and the doctors were very reasonable. 🙂 The biggest struggle was finding the right medication balance—first it was Prazo, then Zyprexa, Moditen, Haldol, Risperdal, and finally Seroquel, which is what finally pulled me out of that acute phase. Along with that, I’m currently taking xanax and Velafax. I spent two months in the hospital and finally returned home feeling okay. Unfortunately, after about four and a half months, the symptoms started creeping back in: deep, overlapping voices, the sensation of insects crawling on my arms and legs, depersonalization, and catatonic states involving repetitive, unnatural movements... my doctor just kept increasing my dosage of Seroquel and xanax, telling me I simply had to accept these symptoms and live with them. It might have stayed that way if I hadn't had another intense episode this past Christmas—everything felt just like it did last year, except this time I trashed my entire bathroom and cut my arms and legs. So, from Christmas until now, I haven't been able to get out of bed... I'm terrified of being judged or getting those weird looks from people. But it looks like I'll be heading back to the hospital again soon... I just hope the atmosphere is as good as it was last time... 🤷
If I were you, I'd go to the hospital. Good luck.🙂
So, my husband is back home. Honestly, I just can't simply walk away from six years of history like it was nothing. Deep down, I really want us to make this work. I’ve seen people suggesting I just ask him about his side of things, but I know there are plenty of you who probably felt differently but didn't say it. At the end of the day, violence is never justifiable, and he claims to realize that now. Currently, I’m focusing on my own recovery, but eventually, we could look into marriage counseling—provided he’s willing to go through it too. He says he wouldn't mind, though he’d prefer using our insurance rather than paying out of pocket. For the time being, we need to figure out how much we can resolve together; actually, everything ultimately comes down to the two of us working through it, alongside his own individual progress. In the legal decision, it wasn't just because I have health struggles—thank Bob for having someone in my corner—but because I told him to come home, thinking I owed him a fair shot. Since he arrived one day ago, things have been surprisingly smooth. He’s trying so hard to talk to me because I’ve had issues with our communication, but I’m making an effort too, though it isn't exactly spontaneous; it takes a conscious, deliberate amount of willpower on my part. Of course, he tells me he loves me and keeps reaching out with hugs and kisses. I know most guys pull that move right after they mess up, so I’m not quite sure why he thinks he’s being uniquely special about it. Statistically speaking, there’s a high probability he might slip up again, and if that happens, I’ll be devastated if I end up having to file for divorce. I married him for love and poured everything I had into making this marriage thrive. When we first met, he was wonderful—gentle, attentive, and someone you would never suspect could ever act like this. Then again, I’m far from perfect myself. So, I decided to give him this chance, but I’m just dreading the moment he snaps again; when it comes to violence, I’m just not interested in a divorce. ☕ Okay, he's settled in 1 day aside from the hope that things will improve, we really need to get into some marriage counseling... and so on ...
You’re just asking for another round of trouble—and frankly, you're going to get it.
Noah Garcia4 said:It really only takes me saying one little thing to him before he snaps; otherwise, honestly, ever since I’ve been in a solid, stable remission—which is exactly what my lab results show, and even my doctor expressed surprise about—that’s exactly when this behavior started. It happened right when I started feeling better; in fact, once I began shaving more and started a heavier dose of medication, he actually stayed calm because I’m usually just asleep during those times.🤷 I am incredibly disciplined about following my treatment plan every single day, down to the exact milligram prescribed by my doctor. And of course, people can certainly get divorced because of an illness; why wouldn't they? In many ways, that would probably be the best outcome.
Personally, I find that Lorazepam and Xanax work best for me—though I have to say, Xanax tends to sedate me in a way that feels somewhat "unnatural," whereas Lorazepam leaves me feeling as peaceful as a sleeping infant. Diazepam, on the other hand, was a total bust for me; it just left me feeling completely numb without actually touching the underlying anxiety at all.
Where has this schizophrenic mob disappeared to? Are you all back on vacation in some small town in the Midwest, or have you finally finished your "treatment"—if you can even call it that? It’s always the same pattern—you lot vanish whenever things are going smoothly, but the second life gets difficult, you come crawling back to crawl around here...🙂
Being sick in this modern, cutthroat world—it’s just not a winning hand. Everywhere I turn, people look at me like I'm some kind of broken machine—stigmatizing me at every single turn, really—with only a handful of exceptions to break the pattern. Honestly? It makes me terrified for what comes next. My health is a volatile thing, a constant balancing act, and I live in fear that I might hit another breaking point. And let's be real: who in their right mind would hire someone if they caught even the slightest hint of instability? Right now, I have this narrow window of opportunity—this chance to actually focus on myself and try to find some semblance of stability. It feels like an incredible luxury, though a fleeting one, because I know deep down I won't be able to sustain this lifestyle forever, much as I'd love to stay in this bubble.🙂
I get it—I'm angry at people too. Believe me, I am. But lately, I've been realizing that getting worked up over all this nonsense is just a massive waste of energy.
Hang in there, everyone, but don't forget—you only get one shot at this life.
To be perfectly honest, the medication doesn't bother me anymore—not even a little bit. In fact, I’ve actually reached a point where I feel like they're helping me stay level. I don't feel drowsy, nor am I dealing with that sluggish, foggy sensation people always complain about. Now, I have no idea what your internal experiences are like—everyone's brain chemistry is a different beast entirely—but I know my own history. I’ve managed to pull myself out of the trenches about 80% of the way, and on some days, it feels like 100%. But let’s be clear: this didn't happen overnight. It wasn't some sudden epiphany. I went through hell—real, grinding hardship—and I suffered for it. However, I made a choice not to descend into total despair. I didn't spend my life weeping over my misfortune or wallowing in self-pity; instead, I just endured. I put my head down, took the hits, and kept pushing forward. That sheer grit—that ability to just endure—is what got me here.
I was out playing some hoops with the guys today—and look, I’m definitely feeling a bit rusty, but I can still hold my own on the court—but then everything just... hits. We all headed out for a drink afterward, the guys were just joking around, being normal, and there I am, completely paralyzed by these intrusive thoughts hitting me at 100 miles per hour. I couldn't even catch my breath. Seriously, what happens when this strikes while I'm actually at work, surrounded by people? It's terrifying. This damn schizophrenia is a total nightmare, honestly.