Posts by Larry Lewis

nimblerider21 As I was saying—and I do mean *as I was saying*, because my train of thought tends to derail if I don't stay focused—it seems like...
And yet—and here we go again—it still remains...s o "The whole damn business of medications—it’s enough to make anyone lose their mind, isn't it? I mean, really think about it for a second. We live in this era where we just expect a little pill to fix everything, as if our brains were nothing more than faulty circuit boards that just need a quick solder here or there. It’s all so clinical, so detached from the actual, messy reality of being human. I was reading some papers the other day—don't ask me why, I have far too much free time on my hands—and it struck me how much we rely on these chemical interventions to navigate what should be simple existence. You take one thing for the mood, another for the sleep, another because the doctor at the Mayo Clinic thinks you look a bit too jittery... it becomes a full-time job just managing the side effects of the things meant to "help" you. It's a cycle. A weary, endless loop of adjusting dosages and praying the tremors don't kick in before your morning coffee. Honestly, it feels less like medicine and more like an attempt to chemically mask the sheer absurdity of modern life.Does smoking actually calm the nerves—really? Or is it just that caffeine kick from a morning cup of Starbucks that jolts you awake—or perhaps we’re all just looking for those latent, natural biological potentials already buried deep within our own bodies? It’s an old conundrum, isn't it? I often find myself sitting there, staring at the steam rising from my mug, wondering if we are merely chasing chemical illusions to mask the sheer exhaustion of modern existence. We lean on these crutches—the nicotine, the caffeine—as if they were some sort of external battery pack for a soul that’s running on empty. But then again, there's that nagging thought—that maybe the mechanism for alertness, or even peace, is already hardwired into our physiology, just waiting for the right stimulus to trigger it. It's a bit of a philosophical rabbit hole, if you ask me.
It’s the same old story when it comes to medication—it’s all just drugs, plain and simple—and they certainly aren't some kind of magic bullet or a permanent fix for anything.
Well... am I really the only one sitting here actually advocating for this? It feels like I’m shouting into a void—or perhaps just a very crowded, very indifferent room. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I’m the sole holdout left in this entire country.
Maybe—just maybe—we’re looking at some sort of zombie solution here... if you can even call it that. It’s all a bit grim, isn't it? Honestly, I’ve seen enough of these cycles to know that when things start feeling this hollow, we're usually just circling the drain.I suppose I should start by saying that I am quite lost—utterly adrift, really—given the sheer lack of context provided here. It’s a bit like walking into a high-stakes meeting at a firm in Chicago only to find everyone staring at a blank whiteboard, waiting for you to explain the quarterly projections. There is nothing. Just... silence. It’s funny, actually—in a deeply frustrating sort of way—how we often expect communication to be intuitive, as if we’re all sharing some collective, unspoken frequency. I once spent three hours in a waiting room at a clinic in Seattle, just staring at a flickering fluorescent light, wondering if the receptionist was actually ignoring me or if she had simply transcended this physical plane. I think I felt more understood by that buzzing lightbulb than I do by this current prompt. Anyway, I am standing by. If there is a specific thought, a grievance, or even a particularly biting observation you wish to share, please do proceed. I shall be here, nursing my lukewarm coffee and waiting for something substantial to latch onto.Sure thing—consider it done. je

It’s a lovely sentiment, isn't it? Truly—one of those sweeping, romanticized ideals that makes for a great song lyric or a Hallmark card, but when you actually sit down to dissect it... well, reality tends to get in the way. We tell ourselves that if we could just find that one perfect connection, everything else would fall into place—the bills would pay themselves, the existential dread would vanish, and the world would suddenly make sense. But life isn't a pop ballad. It’s messy, complicated, and frankly, quite exhausting. You can have all the affection in the world, but if you're staring at a mounting pile of debt or dealing with the sheer chaos of modern existence, "love" feels like a very thin blanket against a blizzard. I remember sitting in a diner back in Chicago—just one of those rainy Tuesday afternoons where everything felt slightly off—thinking about how much effort we put into chasing this grand idea of romance while ignoring the practical, gritty foundations required to actually sustain a life. Love is the fuel, sure, but you still need an engine, a chassis, and a road that isn't currently falling apart beneath you. It’s a beautiful thought, really—deeply poetic—but let's not pretend it's a magic wand that fixes the fundamental friction of being alive.

Coffee wakes me up, smoking keeps me level, and the medication—well, that actually works. Honestly, I’m telling you, if you’ve truly lived through the chaos of actual schizophrenia and all its particular "charms," you wouldn't be standing here preaching against medication or labeling them as just another form of drugs—that's nonsense. Pure nonsense. Meds are what allow a person struggling with this to actually function, to live a life that isn't a total disaster. They aren't "drugs" in the recreational sense, and believe me, I know enough about illicit substances to know the difference. So, what is your grand solution then? You spend all this time preaching about faith or some other "alternative" path that's supposedly superior... fine, then tell me: what exactly is this way? Just say it. Give me the answer.
Believing that things are going to turn around—that's essential, truly—but let’s be honest: hope alone doesn't pay the bills. It's the actual, gritty execution that carries the weight. You can sit there all day praying for a turnaround, but without some real, decisive action, you're just spinning your wheels in the mud.
Look, I’m on medication for my schizophrenia, but let me get one thing straight—I am absolutely not some mindless zombie. And that movie you were watching? Honestly, you completely missed the point. The message it was trying to convey had nothing to do with mental illness at all—it was something else entirely. Just take a second to actually think about it, and then maybe you'll realize what I mean.

Harold Anderson3 said:How are things going with you? 🙂 Don't worry, you're still young, and we’ll figure all of this out together—we're always stronger when we stand as one. 🙂
I don't drink, I'm just messing around, and honestly, my signature is just a joke. 🤣

Let's just hope everything falls into place eventually, but hey, life happens, right?😉

I recently switched up my antipsychotic medication—still adjusting to the new regimen, honestly—and I’m not entirely sure if it’s the right fit yet. I’ve decided to stick with it for another ten days or so to see how the dust settles before heading back for a follow-up appointment, so... yeah, I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders right now.

It is incredibly difficult to explain to someone who hasn't endured a severe psychotic episode what that feels like—but well, we made it through the fire, and we survived at least the worst of it, which has to count for something.

In my eyes, people dealing with mental health struggles are a special breed—they carry a weight that most people simply couldn't shoulder without breaking.
If they sent me back to the psychiatric ward tomorrow, I wouldn't feel much shame about it, but if they sent me back to my old workplace? Now *that* would be a disaster.
I honestly don't know when the human race will finally realize that basic kindness and love are the only things capable of saving this world—a world that, frankly, I fear is veering dangerously in the wrong direction.

I want to express my deepest respect to everyone struggling with illness, to those people out there scraping by in the middle of the night just to stay invisible, and to everyone who reached out a hand to help me—because believe me, they helped more than I can say.

Harold Anderson3 said:So, I finally finished putting my story together regarding my journey through this relentless illness. It might not feel quite as overwhelming 😁if someone takes a moment to sit down and read it; I’d love to hear what you all think about it.

I just finished reading your account, Harold Anderson3—keep at it. You've still got plenty of youth on your side, and you'll find a way to get a handle on this schizophrenia soon enough.😉

goldendrifter642 said:It’s happened to me twice now.
The first time, I lost an incredible job.
I honestly thought I was finished, but I managed to bounce back and actually landed something even better.
Then, after some time had passed, history repeated itself. This time, they were watching me closely, and I’m still working there today.
What weighs on me most is this constant financial uncertainty. If I just knew I was set for life,
and didn't have to worry about a paycheck, maybe I could afford to quit or focus on my treatment. Instead, I find myself constantly dreaming up side hustles and fantasizing about making it big.
If only I could hit the jackpot on a lottery ticket so I could finally just breathe. I know how unrealistic that sounds, but the insecurity just eats away at me. I don't want to end up wandering the streets, hungry and losing my mind one day.
It’s funny, though—my behavioral issues always seem to flare up whenever I fall in love. I meet someone, and suddenly I'm losing it :-) It’s true. Who knows what kind of deep-seated glitch is going on in my head?
Ever since I was a kid, my biggest wish was just to find that one person who would love me back. I’ve actually had some wonderful girlfriends—more than most of my friends, if I'm being honest—but the moment I truly fell in love, I’d become paranoid and act so strange. The last time I fell for someone, it was through social media, but once I realized I was spiraling, I had to call her and tell her we needed to break up so I could go seek help. We hadn't been together long, but she was perfect. It’s such a heavy thing, having to walk away from someone you care about just so you don't embarrass yourself or hurt them. It isn't easy. And I wonder, will I ever truly succeed in that area, especially now that things don't feel quite as simple? I need so much more just to feel happy. When you're a man approaching thirty, there's this unspoken pressure to be making your mark on the world while you're still in your prime, yet people don't offer much empathy or warmth during that struggle.
Does anyone have any thoughts?

Every single one of my relationships ended because of my illness—though not for the exact same reasons yours did—but I certainly get where you're coming from.

There is so little understanding in this world, and for those of us dealing with mental health struggles, that lack of empathy hits harder than most. I know personally how much closeness and support mean to me, and how much it stings when people just don't "get it." But honestly, if it bothers me, that’s strictly my own burden to shoulder. I have to fix it myself, because for everyone else, life goes on regardless—it’s just that we "mental health folks" tend to feel the friction a bit more acutely.

I wish I could offer you some sage advice regarding women, but frankly, I am completely clueless in that department.🙂Maybe just try to deconstruct everything happening in your head—you know, really untangle those emotions.

stormymason5 said:A question for anyone living with schizophrenia:

Is this condition actually the nightmare everyone makes it out to be, or is it possible to just live a relatively normal life with it?

Look, it’s terrifying—there's no sugarcoating that—and honestly, "normalcy" becomes a bit of a myth when you're dealing with it.🙂

I was under the impression that schizophrenia was an incurable condition—truly, a lifelong sentence. So, tell me... am I part of that lucky 20% who needs a little extra incentive to play along?🙂

urbanskipper4 said:I was only on Zoloft for about a week and honestly, I felt like a houseplant just sitting there vegetating.
It made me feel so incredibly sick that I ended up quitting it altogether after talking it over with my psychiatrist.

Well, look, there was one time where a certain dosage—I can't even remember the exact milligrams, honestly—actually calmed me down quite nicely. It got me thinking about maybe checking in with my psychiatrist to see if that might be an option again... though, to be fair, my current regimen is working reasonably well for me. Still, I'm not exactly "over the moon" with it, you know? I put a massive amount of work into managing my own mental health—it’s a full-time job in itself—but you can't help but wonder... you really can't help but ask yourself if there might be a better way out there, especially when things aren't feeling quite perfect.

Ma, fuck you, we’re screwed no matter how you slice it—honestly, I don't see any way out of this mess. I know plenty of people who are looking at retirement with barely thirty years left on the clock, if they're lucky.

I’ve got this nagging suspicion—and I could be entirely off base here, mind you—that I spent far too many years shaving my brain raw, if you catch my drift, which might have triggered a full-blown schizophrenic episode... though, who can truly say? It’s a tangled web, isn't it? You've got the genetic predispositions, the inevitable chemical imbalances, and let's not even get started on the various substances I put myself through back in the day. It's all interconnected, a messy, swirling vortex of causality.

Diego, my regards to you, fellow traveler in the fractured psyche.🙂

fadedbear92 said:Just look after that kind heart of yours instead!http://dl9.glitter-graphics.net/pub/...hoqm1jf0z1.gif

🙂

I haven't seen any mention of "rejoflajt" in our recent discussions—unless, of course, I’ve missed some obscure technical jargon or perhaps a typo from one of those late-night forum ramblings—but if you're referring to a specific medication or a niche regulatory term, please do clarify. I tend to lose the thread when things aren't explicitly laid out, and frankly, my patience for deciphering cryptic shorthand is at an all-time low these days. If this is related to the ongoing discussions regarding FDA advisories or those endless clinical trial debates, let me know. Otherwise, I'm just staring at a word that looks more like a keyboard smash than actual information. kaže:
USA
Back in '96, Abbott Labs first applied for U. S. food and drug Administration approval for sertindole—though, looking back at how things were handled then, I can’t say I’m surprised by the timeline—but... The whole thing was pulled back in '98—an absolute disaster of a situation—once everyone realized the terrifyingly high risk of sudden death caused by QTc prolongation. I mean, just look at the numbers, if you can stomach them. We’re talking about a trial involving 2,000 patients where 27 people died unexpectedly... and 13 of those were sudden deaths. It’s enough to make anyone lose faith in the entire process—it really is. Just a grim reminder of why these things happen when oversight fails.

Europa in Europe
Back in the mid-nineties—specifically around 1996—Sertindole had already cleared the hurdles for approval and hit the market across nineteen different nations in Europa in Europe. But, well... things didn't exactly stay smooth sailing for long.Back in '98, the FDA pulled the plug on its marketing authorization—basically, they yanked the drug off the shelves entirely. It was a mess. But then, fast forward to 2002, and things started shifting again because of some fresh data coming down the pipeline. The FDA's advisory committee suggested that Sertindole could be reintroduced for restricted Use in clinical trials , with strong safeguards including extensive contraindications and warnings for patients AT risk of cardiac dysrhythmias. They weren't taking any chances, though—they recommended dropping the max dose from 24 mg down to 20 mg in almost every single case, and they insisted on rigorous ECG monitoring both before and during treatment. It’s all about those precautions, I suppose—one wrong move with heart rhythms and you're looking at a disaster.The marketing ban was finally lifted back in 2005—an era of significant shifts, if you can believe it.

I was digging through some old medical archives—it’s a bit of a rabbit hole, honestly—and stumbled upon the history of Sertindole again. It’s one of those cases that just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth if you think about it too long. You know, the kind of bureaucratic dance that makes you wonder if anyone is actually looking out for the little guy? So, here’s the deal: back in the day, this drug was supposed to be a big player for treating schizophrenia. But then the wheels fell off because of the heart risks—specifically those nasty cardiac dysrhythmias. I remember reading about a patient of my cousin's who had a similar scare with a different medication years ago; the anxiety of waiting for test results is enough to age a person a decade. Anyway, back to the point. The regulatory side of things is where it gets truly exhausting. After the initial fallout, there was all this back-and-forth with the authorities. Eventually, the FDA's advisory committee suggested that Sertindole could be reintroduced for restricted Use in clinical trials, with strong safeguards including extensive contraindications and warnings for patients AT risk of cardiac dysrhythmias. It’s a cautious, almost hesitant approach—typical of how these massive institutions operate once they've been burned. They don't exactly rush back into the fray. They move with this slow, deliberate skepticism that feels both necessary and incredibly frustrating when you consider how much time passes between these "re-evaluations." It’s just more proof that in the world of pharmacology, nothing is ever as simple as a single pill. 😲

http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?ui...88&topic=14057 😲

It seems the manufacturer behind that particular antipsychotic—Sertindole, or Serdolect, if you prefer the brand name—has decided to pull the plug. They’ve gone ahead and voluntarily suspended its availability entirely. It’s just one more thing in this increasingly unpredictable landscape of pharmaceutical stability—though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, given how often these things seem to vanish from the shelves just when you think you have a handle on them. The whole thing boils down to those nagging, deeply unsettling reports regarding cardiac arrhythmias—and let’s not even get started on the instances of sudden cardiac death linked to its use. It's enough to make anyone lose sleep, really.
(Reference: (GBRCW) Communication, December 2, 1998)

Safety—or rather, the illusion of it—and those dreaded serious adverse events. It’s a heavy topic, isn't it? One minute you think you're navigating a clear path, and the next, you're staring down the barrel of a medical complication that feels like it came out of nowhere. I was reading some old reports the other day—reminded me of a time back in Chicago when a friend of mine thought he was just dealing with a bit of indigestion, only to find out he was facing something far more systemic—and it really strikes a chord regarding how we perceive risk. We want to believe the data is airtight, that the protocols are foolproof, but there's always that shadow of uncertainty hanging over every clinical trial and every new rollout. It’s exhausting, frankly. You look at the numbers, you look at the reported side effects, and you realize that "safety" is often a moving target, constantly being redefined by new findings and shifting regulations. It makes you wonder how much we actually know versus how much we simply hope is true.
Out of the 97 serious adverse events documented—and believe me, that is a staggering number—ten of them ended in fatalities. It’s quite grim when you sit down and actually parse through the data... ten lives gone. We’re looking at two suicides, three sudden deaths—specifically two heart attacks and one pulmonary embolism—and then there's this cluster of four "other" deaths that includes yet another pulmonary embolism, an unspecified case of intoxication, a myocardial infarction, and even a mesenteric artery infarction. To top it all off, there was one death where the cause remains completely unverified. It’s a messy, heartbreaking tally, really.

Thanks for the heads-up, Ray—really appreciate you sharing that info.

Is there anyone out there currently relying on Serdolekt who might be willing to share their honest take on the drug? I’m looking for some actual insight—not just the glossy brochure version—regarding how it actually feels to use it.

I’ve found myself nodding along to quite a few of your posts lately—it’s almost unsettling how much I recognize my own thoughts in your words—so I don't really have anything groundbreaking to contribute here. I just wanted to say: don't let them get to you. Keep fighting. Believe me, I know exactly how heavy this all feels because I'm right there in the trenches with you... so just keep pushing forward!

fadedbear92 said:Larry Lewis, quit messing around—just listen to Harold Anderson3 and your own doctor! No more playing games...🙂

You’re absolutely right—there’s really no point in messing around with that kind of nonsense. I’ll admit, I got a little carried away for a moment there—a momentary lapse in judgment, if you will—but I see sense now. Even though I have the funds available, the idea of actually pulling the trigger on a purchase doesn't even cross my mind. I’m not one of those people who lives for the constant thrill or needs to be chasing the next high every single day; that’s just not my speed. For me, it’s more about those rare moments where the impulse hits, even when I know perfectly well I ought to stay far away from it. Honestly, thank God I managed to walk away this time without any actual fallout or consequences. It could have gone sideways.

How kind of you to worry about me skipping out on that trip to the outskirts of Chicago—really, I’m touched—but honestly, you’ve managed to strike a nerve. I'm actually quite moved by the concern, though perhaps a bit stung by the implication. Fine, fine... I’ll stop giving you a hard time. Consider the teasing officially retired.🙂

Jeremy Rodriguez3 said:A diagnosis is an incredibly complex thing, and it’s never really a finished chapter.

I find myself nodding along here—partly because I carry an F20.0 diagnosis myself, though, frankly, I don't feel like I have schizophrenia at all. In fact, I haven't experienced any symptoms for years now. Some people—the skeptics, the ones who think they know everything—would argue that the symptoms would just resurface the moment I stopped my medication. But I disagree. I truly believe my mind has grown stronger through the process—it's developed a sort of resilience—so even if things were to shift, those horrific symptoms wouldn't ever return quite as violently as they once did.

I don't know the first thing about schizophrenia—all I really know is that my medical records have that F20 code stamped right on them.🙂

Kenneth Scott41 said:I’ve been scrolling through these forums for ages, but I just can't seem to find even a single thread discussing Risperdal, or risset
.

One psychiatrist I spoke with suggested that I should switch entirely to this one medication and ditch everything else I’ve been taking 😕. His plan was for me to take just one 2mg tablet of Risperdal in the morning and two at night, and that would be the end of it. 😕

I suppose I just don't quite grasp how he can act like this "magic" Risperdal is some kind of silver bullet that will fix everything overnight.

Has anyone here actually tried this medication?

I’ve been sitting here thinking about this—and honestly, life is just one long series of questionable decisions—but I’ve been taking 3mg of Risperdal every single night for about six months now. And, if I’m being totally honest, my headspace has actually improved quite a bit... which is a miracle in itself, given the general state of the world. I didn't exactly get it through the traditional, bureaucratic channels—you know how the healthcare system here can be a total nightmare of red tape and endless paperwork—but I managed to track it down and secure it myself because, frankly, I was already using it and knew I needed it. It's a strange way to navigate things, I know, but sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands.
It was about ten years ago—just a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, really—but I distinctly recall feeling... well, alright. It’s strange how the mind works, isn't it? One minute you're drifting through the fog of time, and the next, a memory surfaces—vivid, clear, and surprisingly pleasant. Back then, life felt manageable—actually, it felt good. I remember it clearly, even if the details have since blurred around the edges like an old photograph left out in the sun.
I’m really not one to second-guess a medical professional—I mean, they spent years in school for a reason, right?—so I won't weigh in on what your doctor is suggesting, but let's assume the guy actually knows his stuff.
Look, it doesn't cost you a dime to give it a shot—I mean, if it doesn't work out, what's the harm? Why not? I’m telling you, it made a massive difference for me.

P.S.—I can’t say I experienced any side effects from it—none at all. Truly.

I don't know, velvetsailor26—four years is a long time, and honestly, my heart goes out to you. It’s a heavy weight to carry. But please, don't let hope slip through your fingers just yet. Look at me—I’ve been diagnosed with schizophrenia, yet here I am, living a life that most would call "normal." I grab coffee at the local Starbucks, I have a girlfriend, I’ve got a solid circle of friends... the only thing is, I haven't quite managed to get back into the workforce. It took me three long years, moving inch by agonizing inch, just to find my footing again. But I never, ever let go of hope. I never gave up. Suicide... well, that's for cowards, and frankly, it's a sin against God, against nature, against the universe, against love—against whatever it is you hold sacred. I’m not going to sit here and lecture you with advice—I’m certainly not smart enough to play therapist, and I don't know the specifics of your struggle—but I will say this: there is always room to make changes, both in your surroundings and within yourself. You can turn things around.

I found myself drowning in those exact same feelings just a few years back—it’s a heavy, suffocating place to be. If I can offer even a shred of perspective, it would be this: if you commit to the work and actually give yourself the grace of time, most of these hurdles will eventually start to clear. It’s not an overnight fix, mind you, but progress is possible. I won't sit here and lecture you on what specific steps to take, though; we’re all different people with our own unique psychological makeup, and what helps one person navigate this mess might not work for another. Everyone’s battle is their own. But please, don't let the darkness convince you otherwise—what you're reaching for isn't some impossible dream, even if it feels completely out of reach right now.

I deal with a really, really mild case of OCD—it’s subtle, sure, but honestly? It is incredibly aggravating. I mean, seriously—what is the point of having a condition if you don't even get the "full" experience? It's just frustrating enough to be a nuisance without being anything else.🙂