It feels like everyone is losing their minds lately... it’s almost like madness is becoming the norm. Even those who seem fine probably show at least some early symptoms or signs of it. I guess that applies to you and me too; you put it perfectly. When I look in the mirror and compare myself to the person I was just a few years ago... I see someone physically frailer because of the exhaustion, pale because I haven't seen much sunlight, and with long hair because even making it to a barbershop felt like too much of a burden. But when I really study my reflection, there are these new lines on my face that I don't even recognize
Today, for the first time, I started hearing things. The voices aren't loud and they aren't bothering me too much, but I hear them. When will this pass? Maybe when I wake up, they'll be gone...... And I'm moving so slowly now that my mom is already asking me if I'll go see a doctor.... Ugh... I just hope I feel better tomorrow.
The whole idea of "healthy meeting broken" feels like a myth to me. If we actually sat down and defined what constitutes being healthy versus being struggling, maybe there'd be an answer... but I think beyond just love, two people need common ground to truly understand one another. That’s why I find myself agreeing with blueheron7. For instance, I don't really have many friends, and a huge part of that is simply because most people wouldn't get me... so I don't even bother trying. Here I go again, hitting another phase of emotional numbness. Everything feels empty. Even the guy I finally started seeing after five years of total isolation—I'm ignoring him now because I just don't feel anything at all. I'm considering seeing a therapist to work through this. He tells me that just because I'm staying busy with my projects doesn't mean I'm okay; he says I have zero social life and that my existence is essentially hollow. I think he's right. My life feels empty, and honestly, so does my soul. If only there were a pill for that... hah... If only I could wake up one day and realize this was all just a bad dream.
The idea of a "healthy" person dating someone who is struggling... heheh, honestly, it feels more like a myth to me. If we could actually define what "healthy" or "unhealthy" even means in this context, maybe there'd be an answer. But I truly believe that beyond just love, two people need common ground to actually understand one another, which is why I mostly agree with blueheron7. For instance, I don't really have many friends, and a huge part of that is simply because most people wouldn't get me... so I don't even bother trying. And here I go again, hitting another phase of total emotional numbness. Everything feels empty. The only guy I’ve actually dated after being isolated for five years? I'm ignoring him right now because I just don't feel anything at all. I'm considering seeing a therapist to work through some things. He tells me, "Just because you stay busy with your projects doesn't mean you're okay; you have no social life, nothing." And he's right. My life feels completely hollow, much like my soul. If only there were a pill for that... hah... I wish I could just wake up one day and realize this was all just a bad dream.
I was going through some paperwork yesterday and stumbled upon all my records from seeing various specialists over the last five years. It made me pause for a moment... and realize how much I've managed to hold it together so far. I'm doing as well as can be expected, but there's still this underlying fear, wondering just how long I can maintain this. Looking back at all those clinical notes and prescriptions, it feels like I've just been running in circles. Everything eventually led to a recommendation for hospitalization, which I declined because it turned out that none of the medications, therapies, or counseling sessions actually worked for me. I could push myself to the absolute breaking point, but I don't think I'll ever step foot in a psychiatric ward. Maybe that's the wrong way to look at it. Perhaps hospitals aren't inherently bad—they offer help and medicine—but going there would mean admitting the problem is officially "real." Plus, the stress that would put on my family would be far too much.
I haven't posted in a while... mostly because I haven't been sleeping. :-) Which is fine. Usually, when I'm in this state, I disappear for weeks at a time. I stayed away recently because I was trying to just live my life—closing my eyes to the fear and functioning as if none of this internal struggle exists. Of course, I eventually hit a wall... but I held my own for a while. Maybe one day I'll feel truly okay again.
Harold Anderson3, let me know how things are going at the outpatient clinic and how college is treating you?
Harold Anderson3, how are you doing? Are you still heading to the outpatient clinic? How are you handling those new medications? The changing weather and my high blood pressure are really making things worse lately... Anyway, I'm still fighting the good fight, just pushing through... facing everything on my own.
There is a certain beauty in madness—it’s where true individual creativity lives. Being misunderstood often comes with a heavy price of pain and solitude, but it's part of being unique. Shadow told me I should just sleep. It said black holes aren't even real; they're just a utopia, a perfect state of absorption that can't exist, because if they did, we'd all just be sucked into an endless void. Are we already there?
The ghosts of my past are haunting me. I can barely breathe; the air feels stifling, and even when I try to open the window, nothing happens. It's pitch black outside, and part of me just wants to vanish into the night because whenever I close my eyes... everything becomes too real. These nightmares won't stop. I can't run from my past. No matter where I look, there it is. Even if I can't see it, I hear it. And if it goes silent? It’s still right there—quiet, heavy, and looming like a shadow. It never leaves me alone.
Life would be so much simpler if we could view everything through the lens of pure science—just data, without the weight of emotions or love. If I had lived that way for years, my existence would have been empty and meaningless. Is it simpler? Perhaps. But even then, enthusiasm finds a way to emerge because you can develop a passion for anything, not just for a person. After all this time, I’m finally feeling something again... and it feels wonderful. It makes me feel alive. Every time a part of me dies, it’s as if a completely different person is born. Along the way, I feel like I've lost myself... or maybe I never truly existed at all. I just don't know.
Mania speaks for itself... whenever you slip into one of those episodes, regardless of the trigger, there’s this overwhelming sense of euphoria and pure joy. You become completely consumed by it. For some, it might be centered on sex, but it can honestly be anything. I went through those manic phases a long time ago, though mine were directed toward... well, things like massive computer programming projects. I wouldn't even sleep or eat; I would just obsess over them day and night without stopping. It was total madness. :-) I try to avoid getting back into that headspace now... although I definitely feel the urge to dive back in sometimes. I'm just trying to keep my life as balanced as I can... without overdoing anything. Well, I might overdo it with my doctor :-) but I'll try to set boundaries there, because once I cross them, it really starts taking a toll on my health. Moderation is key in everything. I won't get into my own libido or sexuality because... frankly, it's too embarrassing. So, I probably can't help you much with your specific situation, but I don't know if I'm wrong in thinking that most guys actually struggle with a weakened libido rather than an overactive one... especially since medication tends to lower it even further.
Jose Ward4....yeah, it’s tough to even step foot out the door sometimes. Honestly, when Maura tells me I can't go, I don't bother; I just try to steer clear of everything in a wide circle. Heh, I guess I’ve kind of worked myself into this state where I don't really have a social life at all. I still remember my first time visiting a male psychiatrist, which was a huge deal for me. It was incredibly stressful, and by the time I realized it was a man, it was already too late to turn back, so I just sucked it up. I took a couple of calming pills and powered through. I walked into the office and sat down, and he looks at me and asks, "What brings such a young, beautiful woman in here?" Naturally, I just stared at the floor. It felt so awkward and unprofessional of me. Then I handed over my previous medical records. He scanned them and just went, "Well, then..." Over the next hour, he kept asking questions, and based on his reactions, my "normal" answers clearly weren't normal to him. He actually told me, "People don't live like this; this isn't a way to live, you need help. I see you've been treated with various medications that haven't worked because what you actually need is an antipsychotic." He sent me away with that diagnosis and those findings like he was just waiting for something bad to happen to me—like I suddenly wasn't even capable of walking. And that look of pity in his eyes? Unforgettable. I haven't gone back because of some family issues, but... I don't know. I think I might need to start treatment again and get back on track.
I really appreciate all the advice and support you guys have given me, it truly means a lot... I'm just sitting here listening to the rain fall late at night... I love the sound of rain. ☺
I found out today that my grandmother has been hospitalized again in the psychiatric ward; she had a severe episode, as she struggles with schizophrenia.
I'm going back to listening to the rain now, it's coming down so beautifully...... I could listen to this sound forever.
Angela Stewart6 :-) Thanks for asking and checking in on me... honestly, I’m doing my best. I try to stay positive every single day. Unfortunately, things have slowed down quite a bit for me lately... there's just too much going on to fit into one message, but if I had to sum it all up in one word: emptiness. But it's okay... I'm sure better days are ahead, or at least I really hope they are.
It’s incredibly difficult, almost impossible, to be 100% certain about a diagnosis sometimes. I actually doubted my own... once I received it, I spent so much time trying to find excuses to prove it wrong, convinced the doctor had just made a mistake and that I was perfectly "normal." But honestly, the hardest part is facing the truth. And even then, you still find yourself lying to yourself occasionally because—well, what kind of life would you have if you were constantly telling yourself, "Hey, you have the worst mental illness possible? It's like cancer for the soul?" I feel like life would lose all meaning if you lived in that reality, stuck between doubting, hoping, or just straight-up denying it. I don't think it's an exaggeration; it really is all in your head... that phrase isn't used for nothing, and that's why it's written that way.
I was having some good days until recently, but then "they" came back... those feelings. When I'm sitting or lying down, I can just stay motionless for hours. I won't eat, and I simply do nothing because I feel absolutely nothing except the total absence of my own being. It's as if my soul has left me, leaving my body behind to just sit there, cold, waiting for the end... but I fight because of everyone else. I look at my family and I know I have to keep moving forward.
When severe depression hits, it’s so heavy that you just want to die. But when that total lack of will takes over, you don't even have the strength to die; you already feel dead... like a corpse just rotting away, waiting to be consumed completely. This illness is brutal, and everyone fights it in their own way. But in this struggle, you don't really "win"—you're already gone. Maybe some of us were born feeling like we're already dead.
Mark Baker17 said:Well, they go through rigorous FDA clinical trials... and honestly, you can look up the data for any specific medication to see exactly how much better it performs compared to a placebo regarding individual symptoms. The real issue, I suppose, is that most of the meds currently on the market don't show a particularly strong effect when it comes to those "negative" symptoms.
Which essentially means we can't effectively treat that specific subtype of schizophrenia where negative symptoms dominate and positive ones are almost non-existent.
Harold Anderson3 said:People look at me differently mostly because they can tell I'm struggling, so they usually just feel sorry for me. Or, honestly, they don't look at me any differently at all. 🤷 Like most people dealing with mental health issues, I'm not a danger to anyone else; I'm only ever a danger to myself. Of course, the manic phases are easier to live through—you actually feel alive, or at least you act like you are. It's just that if things spiral out of control, I end up back in the hospital. But... let's not talk about the illness anymore. 🙂 By the way, what medications are you on? As far as I know, Eglonil isn't an antipsychotic. If you have a schizophrenia diagnosis, you really should be taking at least one antipsychotic. I take two (Azolar and Zyprexa). Zyprexa absolutely wipes me out, though; it just makes me sleep constantly.
Eglony is an antipsychotic, but I only take it some days and skip it others... I honestly don't know if I'll even go back to my psychiatrist. They want to switch me to different antipsychotics and seem to think I've completely lost it😵. Do you think the meds actually help? How can we ever tell if it's just a placebo effect that we're enduring all those side effects for?
Harold Anderson3 said:That's a lot of questions to tackle 😉
My moods tend to swing quite a bit. I've actually written quite a bit about this lately, so if you want more context, feel free to look back through my posts on the previous page. This most recent hospital stay was pretty brief, just about three weeks. Before that, I had been working for three months straight, waking up at 5:00 AM every single day, working until 2:00 PM, and then heading straight to my college lectures in the afternoon. It just completely drained me, and even though I was staying consistent with my medication, the psychosis came rushing back. It’s funny, in a dark sort of way—I managed to stick it out and finish my work term, but it was only once I stopped working that everything spiraled. I’m actually looking to start a job at a warehouse again soon. People can see that I’m struggling, but they also see that I’m genuinely trying, so most employers tend to leave me to it. I do lose jobs occasionally, but it's rare. They're usually just simple student jobs where speed matters more than high-level responsibility. Once I graduate from university, I'll have to move into roles that require more accountability, and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I'll navigate that.
I read that... you suffer from severe depressive episodes and manic psychoses... which do you prefer? I assume you at least feel something during the manic phases? I understand that since these are routine jobs, it's manageable for now... Jobs requiring higher responsibility are more stressful and would likely worsen my condition... I feel the same way about myself. You mentioned people notice... is it difficult for you when you can see it in their faces that they're looking at you differently? He wrote that the idea of a relationship between a healthy person and someone with mental illness is a myth... I agree with him, as only similar people can truly understand one another.
Harold Anderson3 said:Well... I'm currently a sophomore at MIT, working various student jobs just to keep my head above water. I'm 29, single, and haven't found a partner yet. I wouldn't say I've become one of those "classic" schizophrenics who has completely given up on functioning and lives solely off disability checks, but I definitely don't live a totally "normal" life either—not that anyone’s life is without its struggles. My mom also deals with schizophrenia; she's been retired for nearly 20 years now, having transitioned out of work when she was about 35. So far, I've had six hospitalizations, five of which were at a facility in Los Angeles (the most recent was just two months ago). There was a woman who started this thread about ten years ago, if I recall correctly. Her condition progressed much faster because she frequently stopped her medication, though she actually has a much better living situation than I do—her environment isn't quite as rough as mine. What I mean is, my struggle isn't just my own diagnosis; I'm also managing my mother's health and caring for my grandmother, who is getting quite old... it's a lot to carry, but I'm hanging in there and trying not to let it break me. E: You know, there are plenty of people with schizophrenia who have earned PhDs and even teach at major universities. One individual, who sadly passed away, even went on to win a Nobel Prize. 🙂
How are you feeling? What kind of emotions are you running through right now? Why were you hospitalized for hallucinations and other symptoms? What was the hospitalization actually like—what happened that was severe enough to require being admitted? E, my environment is an issue for me too. My life isn't exactly great, though I'm lucky enough not to have to work right now—though I don't know how I would manage, since any unfamiliar environment causes massive stress that makes my condition worse. How do you manage to hold down a job? Most of all, I'm curious about how you handle emotional numbness. When that hits, how do you force yourself to do anything if you aren't really feeling much?
Harold Anderson3 said:Lately, I've been oscillating between "your" diagnosis and F20.0 (Paranoid Schizophrenia). With simplex schizophrenia, it's primarily the negative symptoms—things like depression and social withdrawal—that are present, while the productive symptoms are often managed by medication. Subjectively speaking, simplex can be harder to live with day-to-day, yet a person might still manage to function reasonably well in their career and personal life. On the other hand, during an acute phase of paranoid schizophrenia, hospitalization becomes necessary. Getting the diagnosis itself doesn't change who you are, even if the doctor hit the nail on the head. If it's accurate, having a label actually makes treatment and daily functioning easier to manage, even if the diagnosis happens to be schizophrenia.
You're right, and I appreciate you sharing that with me. It's good to hear. I don't feel quite that way at this exact moment, but I know you're correct. To be honest, I'm undecided about starting treatment, though since my symptoms are worsening, I'll likely have to; otherwise, this will just take over until I lose all connection to the world around me. I don't want to do that to my family; I don't want to be a burden. Beyond that, I am truly determined to finish my Master's and hopefully move on to a PhD. That goal is the one thing keeping me grounded and away from my "madness." Sometimes it sparks a real passion in me to feel truly alive, even if the sheer stress and workload of grad school are absolutely overwhelming.