Schizophrenia - General Discussion

Laura Castillo6 said:You really can't just deny that psychosis is a real medical condition. Once someone starts coming back to reality after an episode, they usually have a pretty clear idea of what went down. Plus, even the psychiatrists—the ones who actually know their stuff—can tell when something is fundamentally off based on how a person communicates, their body language, and all those little nuances in conversation. We might not have a machine that can point to a screen and say, "There it is," but you don't need one. A proper psychological evaluation through actual, deep conversation is more than enough to prove it's happening.

Just wanted to add:
When I was last in the hospital—I think it was about a year ago at a facility over in Seattle—I didn’t have a single blood test or a CT scan done, even though I was there for an entire month. There was this other guy staying in my room, someone who had never been hospitalized before, and he hadn't gone through any scans or blood work either. He actually brought it up during one of our chats; we ended up getting along pretty well. It really makes you think, though. When you look at how things work, most diagnoses aren't exactly backed by hard physical evidence. Usually, if you're dealing with medical issues, you go in for a CT scan or blood tests to check your dopamine or serotonin levels just to prove what's actually going on. That’s how almost everything in medicine works. But in this field? Apparently not. It feels like the only thing left is for a psychiatrist to sit you down, give you a diagnosis, and hand you some pills.

You don't actually need some high-tech medical device to diagnose a mental health condition. Take anxiety, for example—you don't exactly need to run blood tests or check chemical levels in the body just to prove someone is struggling with an anxiety disorder. It’s something you can observe and understand through conversation and experience, rather than just looking at data on a screen.
Look, we all know that brain chemicals like dopamine and all that stuff are absolutely vital for how our neurons actually talk to each other. It’s the engine under the hood, right? But at the end of the day, when you're looking at actual symptoms of an illness, there isn't really a magic number you can just point to. You can't exactly run a test to say, "Aha! This person is exactly 4.2 milligrams short on dopamine," and call it a formal diagnosis. It’s more about the way those symptoms manifest in a person's life rather than trying to nail down a precise chemical measurement.
Honestly, I don't think you should ever look at a diagnosis as some kind of final sentence. It’s more like a roadmap—a starting point that leads you toward the right therapy and eventually to a place of stability. As for tapering off medication, it’s definitely possible, but you really shouldn't try to go it alone. You need to work closely with a professional to do it safely. I actually know quite a few people who managed to successfully step away from their meds even after taking them for decades. It’s all about patience and seeing how things settle over time, provided there isn't a relapse. Just take it one step at a time.

You’re talking about what happens in a doctor's office, but I’m talking about the logic behind it all. Seriously, think about it: how were these medications even created in the first place? They must have had deep insights into what was going wrong with patients—looking at dopamine, serotonin, neuron activity, and all that. They had to observe and establish those patterns in sick patients so they could eventually apply treatments to you, me, and everyone else. You get what I mean? So my question is: if they could figure it out then, why is it suddenly impossible to see now? It feels a bit confusing. These pills react to everything you just mentioned, which means researchers had to study those very things to make the drugs work. And yet now, they claim they can't "see" it without a psychiatrist standing right there.

Who knows? Maybe a woman suffering from severe anxiety ends up on pills or in a facility because she actually needs a total life overhaul—a change in her job, her routine, or her environment. Maybe she just needs peace and quiet. Or maybe she just doesn't have the money for real help. But with the way things are, based on your behavior, you just get handed a prescription and told to "keep pushing." You're just patching a hole while the rest of the boat is still sinking. I'm not saying schizophrenia is curable—I'm not claiming that—but the whole way this is handled... it just smells fishy to me. Especially that first part of my response.

Jose Ward4 said:You’re talking about what happens in a doctor's office, but I’m talking about the logic behind it all. Seriously, think about it: how were these medications even created in the first place? They must have had deep insights into what was going wrong with patients—looking at dopamine, serotonin, neuron activity, and all that. They had to observe and establish those patterns in sick patients so they could eventually apply treatments to you, me, and everyone else. You get what I mean? So my question is: if they could figure it out then, why is it suddenly impossible to see now? It feels a bit confusing. These pills react to everything you just mentioned, which means researchers had to study those very things to make the drugs work. And yet now, they claim they can't "see" it without a psychiatrist standing right there.

Who knows? Maybe a woman suffering from severe anxiety ends up on pills or in a facility because she actually needs a total life overhaul—a change in her job, her routine, or her environment. Maybe she just needs peace and quiet. Or maybe she just doesn't have the money for real help. But with the way things are, based on your behavior, you just get handed a prescription and told to "keep pushing." You're just patching a hole while the rest of the boat is still sinking. I'm not saying schizophrenia is curable—I'm not claiming that—but the whole way this is handled... it just smells fishy to me. Especially that first part of my response.

Honestly, they didn't "see" anything initially—they were basically experimenting with different substances on patients to see which ones helped curb certain behaviors (like keeping someone from acting out), and that's how the first generation of antipsychotics was born. (I can't recall the specific drug or what it was originally intended for, just that it was meant for something else entirely, but it would be worth looking up). Those explanations involving neurotransmitters came much later. Measuring their levels in living patients—rather than through an autopsy—is actually quite recent and isn't done very often. Something similar happened with antidepressants. When it comes to diagnosis, everything really boils down to how you act and what you tell the doctor; those are the only ways they can determine what's wrong, and naturally, that's where mistakes happen.

I don't know much about treating mental illness through diet, aside from a little I've read regarding Ayurvedic medicine (basically combining specific foods with herbal remedies from India). I also read somewhere that India has a relatively low rate of psychotic relapse compared to the West, though there are plenty of different theories as to why that is. The Finns also see great results; in about 85 percent of cases, people make a full recovery after their first psychotic episode. There are other ways to treat schizophrenia too, like the methods R. D. Laing practiced back in the seventies, or even newer psychotherapeutic approaches like this kind of thing. I haven't studied any of this in depth, but looking at the big picture, it really feels to me like this illness is curable. You just have to find the right technique, put in a lot of work, and have a therapist who offers more than just a prescription. It’s all pretty complex.

I remember reading somewhere that certain pills were actually discovered back in the 1950s, but they were originally intended for something else entirely before researchers realized they could help manage this specific disorder.
It seems like it’s always been a case of the illness existing first, followed by the symptoms. All this talk we have about brain chemistry is likely the result of extensive animal testing that eventually led scientists to these conclusions.

I won't go too deep into the weeds here, but studying the human brain is incredibly tricky when it's tucked away inside someone's head. Once a person passes away, brain function ceases, so there's a limit to what can actually be investigated. That's just one of the ways science hits a wall.

But unlike in the old days, who can actually isolate you from society today? As long as you aren't in a full psychotic state, who is really going to claim you're different from everyone else? Honestly, nobody, which is why I keep saying the diagnosis itself isn't the most important thing.
Think about it—every single one of us carries a certain number of mutated, potentially cancerous cells in our bodies as we age. Whether someone actually gets diagnosed with cancer depends on their symptoms, general health, and various tests. It all comes down to whether the immune system manages to keep those rogue cells under control.

In a similar way, whether by some miracle or just through natural means, a person experiencing psychosis continues to live, even if they are living in an imagined reality. Their brain chemistry is out of balance, causing them to misinterpret everything they see in the world.

Medications work by blocking receptors, and that process inevitably leads to unwanted side effects.
It's really no different than using marijuana or alcohol. Those substances interact with neurotransmitter receptors, which changes how a person feels and acts.

But then again, those final elements—how someone feels, behaves, and speaks—are enough to trigger a diagnosis. Still, I have to reiterate: a diagnosis matters for treatment, because without it, someone could remain in a psychotic state until they die. Take Einstein's son, for example; he lived in psychosis for thirty years and passed away in a mental health facility. That means he spent three decades without a clear sense of self, or perhaps only had brief moments of awareness. That’s a tragic life to lead; it makes me wonder, what do plants even feel?
At the end of the day, you don't need a medical marker for people around you to realize that something is clearly off when someone starts rambling about aliens.

By the way, I feel like what the OP wrote about this illness being so incredibly "terrible" is just pure stigma fueled by total ignorance. It’s like saying malaria is some unstoppable monster or whatever—it’s just a label. F20 is nothing more than a dead letter on a piece of paper that people who don't know any better stare at with unnecessary fear.

Laura Castillo6 said:You really can't just deny that psychosis is a real medical condition. Once someone starts coming back to reality after an episode, they usually have a pretty clear idea of what went down. Plus, even the psychiatrists—the ones who actually know their stuff—can tell when something is fundamentally off based on how a person communicates, their body language, and all those little nuances in conversation. We might not have a machine that can point to a screen and say, "There it is," but you don't need one. A proper psychological evaluation through actual, deep conversation is more than enough to prove it's happening.

Just wanted to add:
When I was last in the hospital—I think it was about a year ago at a facility over in Seattle—I didn’t have a single blood test or a CT scan done, even though I was there for an entire month. There was this other guy staying in my room, someone who had never been hospitalized before, and he hadn't gone through any scans or blood work either. He actually brought it up during one of our chats; we ended up getting along pretty well. It really makes you think, though. When you look at how things work, most diagnoses aren't exactly backed by hard physical evidence. Usually, if you're dealing with medical issues, you go in for a CT scan or blood tests to check your dopamine or serotonin levels just to prove what's actually going on. That’s how almost everything in medicine works. But in this field? Apparently not. It feels like the only thing left is for a psychiatrist to sit you down, give you a diagnosis, and hand you some pills.

You don't actually need some high-tech medical device to diagnose a mental health condition. Take anxiety, for example—you don't exactly need to run blood tests or check chemical levels in the body just to prove someone is struggling with an anxiety disorder. It’s something you can observe and understand through conversation and experience, rather than just looking at data on a screen.
Look, we all know that brain chemicals like dopamine and all that stuff are absolutely vital for how our neurons actually talk to each other. It’s the engine under the hood, right? But at the end of the day, when you're looking at actual symptoms of an illness, there isn't really a magic number you can just point to. You can't exactly run a test to say, "Aha! This person is exactly 4.2 milligrams short on dopamine," and call it a formal diagnosis. It’s more about the way those symptoms manifest in a person's life rather than trying to nail down a precise chemical measurement.
Honestly, I don't think you should ever look at a diagnosis as some kind of final sentence. It’s more like a roadmap—a starting point that leads you toward the right therapy and eventually to a place of stability. As for tapering off medication, it’s definitely possible, but you really shouldn't try to go it alone. You need to work closely with a professional to do it safely. I actually know quite a few people who managed to successfully step away from their meds even after taking them for decades. It’s all about patience and seeing how things settle over time, provided there isn't a relapse. Just take it one step at a time.

That is such a solid perspective—honestly, it’s one of those points you really need to sit with and read a few times to let it sink in.

Joseph Bailey41 said:Honestly, they didn't "see" anything initially—they were basically experimenting with different substances on patients to see which ones helped curb certain behaviors (like keeping someone from acting out), and that's how the first generation of antipsychotics was born. (I can't recall the specific drug or what it was originally intended for, just that it was meant for something else entirely, but it would be worth looking up). Those explanations involving neurotransmitters came much later. Measuring their levels in living patients—rather than through an autopsy—is actually quite recent and isn't done very often. Something similar happened with antidepressants. When it comes to diagnosis, everything really boils down to how you act and what you tell the doctor; those are the only ways they can determine what's wrong, and naturally, that's where mistakes happen.

I don't know much about treating mental illness through diet, aside from a little I've read regarding Ayurvedic medicine (basically combining specific foods with herbal remedies from India). I also read somewhere that India has a relatively low rate of psychotic relapse compared to the West, though there are plenty of different theories as to why that is. The Finns also see great results; in about 85 percent of cases, people make a full recovery after their first psychotic episode. There are other ways to treat schizophrenia too, like the methods R. D. Laing practiced back in the seventies, or even newer psychotherapeutic approaches like this kind of thing. I haven't studied any of this in depth, but looking at the big picture, it really feels to me like this illness is curable. You just have to find the right technique, put in a lot of work, and have a therapist who offers more than just a prescription. It’s all pretty complex.

Modern medicine—or at least what most people consider the "official" consensus these days—tends to act like it isn't actually capable of providing a true cure. It’s a pretty heavy sentiment to swallow, isn't it?
I was reading this article the other day that made some pretty bold claims about how it can actually be healing. I've been scouring the internet for it ever since, but I just can't seem to track it down again!

To me, the most fascinating technique they used to treat her was... I’ve been spending a lot of time lately diving deep into the concept of Reparenting, and honestly, it’s been such a game-changer for my own mental headspace. It sounds a little intense when you first hear the term, doesn't it? But once you peel back the layers, it’s really just about learning how to give yourself the kind of steady, nurturing guidance that maybe you didn't quite get growing up. It’s like becoming your own advocate. You know those moments where you're being incredibly hard on yourself—maybe after a mistake at work or just a bad day—where that inner critic starts shouting? Reparenting is about stepping in and saying, "Hey, take it easy. We're okay. Let's try again." It’s treating that younger, more vulnerable version of yourself with the patience and compassion a good parent would have shown. I started practicing this a few months ago during a particularly rough patch. I used to be my own worst enemy, constantly pushing myself toward burnout. Now, I try to check in with myself like I would with a close friend or even a child. If I’m exhausted, instead of forcing myself to power through, I listen to that need for rest. It feels a bit strange at first, almost like you're playing a role, but it becomes so much more natural the more you do it. It’s about building that internal foundation of safety and self-worth from the ground up..
The founders ended up getting a bad rap, mostly because of some controversy that cropped up when they were already older and a bit more set in their ways. It’s a shame, really, because they actually delivered—they made some genuinely groundbreaking discoveries in the field of psychotherapy that still hold weight today.

So, my old lady was at the social services office today talking about me—well, more like talking *around* me. She was actually there about some other business entirely. They told her I could basically move into a shelter if I wanted to. Honestly? I might take them up on it, since my life is currently a total dumpster fire. Between the health issues and everything else piling up, it’s a mess. My mom didn't want to start the paperwork for my benefits yet, though, because we've got this massive situation going on right now and she wouldn't have anyone to help me chase down all the red tape—she isn't doing too great herself lately.

Zero sense of direction.

Mom, I was just kidding—one sock always disappears in the laundry. It’s practically a law of physics.
But seriously, can I ask a real question? What actually happens during psychosis? And why does everyone act like being in a psychotic state is so much worse than being on medication? For me, it always felt incredible. I had this mountain of ideas that just carried me along, like I had wings. If I ever hit a dead end with my little theories, I’d just shut down and pretend I wasn't even there. People would think I was catatonic, but really, I just didn't feel like talking. I even spent ten days straight just rambling nonsense once—it was actually pretty fun. Has anyone else gone through something like that? And what are these fears and dark hallucinations you guys keep mentioning?
I guess I'm still trying to put my own puzzle pieces together...

Look, all those illusions aren't necessarily "positive" experiences. In many cases, they're actually symptoms of an underlying disorder. Take catatonia, for example—that’s a symptom itself, so you shouldn't just try to brush it off or deny its significance.

Negative hallucinations can be terrifying, like the sensation that you're actually dying. I remember being absolutely convinced my heart was about to give out; I just laid there in bed, waiting for the end. It was an incredibly heavy, unsettling feeling. Later on, I had this overwhelming conviction that the Sun was going to explode. The fear was so intense I actually fled my house. Honestly, if I hadn't gotten away when I did, I might have actually died from the sheer panic.

There are plenty of other instances like that. Anything that leaves you feeling profoundly disturbed can fall under the umbrella of negative hallucinations, mainly because they leave you acting in such an extreme, agitated state. From a psychiatric standpoint, hallucinations are inherently negative because they're completely out of your control and present a false reality, which is why doctors strongly advise against using marijuana or other psychoactive substances.
Personally, I’d suggest everyone steer clear of alcohol and even tobacco as much as possible.

Laura Castillo6 said:Look, all those illusions aren't necessarily "positive" experiences. In many cases, they're actually symptoms of an underlying disorder. Take catatonia, for example—that’s a symptom itself, so you shouldn't just try to brush it off or deny its significance.

Negative hallucinations can be terrifying, like the sensation that you're actually dying. I remember being absolutely convinced my heart was about to give out; I just laid there in bed, waiting for the end. It was an incredibly heavy, unsettling feeling. Later on, I had this overwhelming conviction that the Sun was going to explode. The fear was so intense I actually fled my house. Honestly, if I hadn't gotten away when I did, I might have actually died from the sheer panic.

There are plenty of other instances like that. Anything that leaves you feeling profoundly disturbed can fall under the umbrella of negative hallucinations, mainly because they leave you acting in such an extreme, agitated state. From a psychiatric standpoint, hallucinations are inherently negative because they're completely out of your control and present a false reality, which is why doctors strongly advise against using marijuana or other psychoactive substances.
Personally, I’d suggest everyone steer clear of alcohol and even tobacco as much as possible.

Well, I smoke, damn it.

Anamar did you actually experience these hallucinations? Like, visual or auditory ones? You're talking as if you don't really get what we're discussing here, so I have to ask.

She definitely had them, but they used to give her this massive rush of euphoria—kind of like how I get when I’m feeling, you know, sexually charged... man, those things are just next level. 😁

Laura Castillo6 said:She definitely had them, but they used to give her this massive rush of euphoria—kind of like how I get when I’m feeling, you know, sexually charged... man, those things are just next level. 😁

Look, my whole mindset was that we had to save the planet. And honestly? I was thriving. Women were all over me, especially the older crowd—real MILFs, you know? But damn, that whole era just came to a crashing halt.

Yeah, it seems like everyone is dealing with those same kinds of hallucinations, and they’re incredibly vivid. That’s why it takes such a long time for your brain to actually recover from those distorted realities.

Laura Castillo6 said:Yeah, it seems like everyone is dealing with those same kinds of hallucinations, and they’re incredibly vivid. That’s why it takes such a long time for your brain to actually recover from those distorted realities.

So, what, was everyone here busy saving the world? I really should be thanking you all, considering the planet is still spinning despite the fact that we've been told it was ending roughly seventy-seven times by now.👍

I honestly used to be convinced that I was Jesus, which is pretty ironic considering how religious I actually am. There was this other stretch of time where I was having these intense hallucinations that I was some kind of American king, thinking everything belonged to me... I’ve forgotten most of those episodes, thank goodness 😁

Laura Castillo6 said:I honestly used to be convinced that I was Jesus, which is pretty ironic considering how religious I actually am. There was this other stretch of time where I was having these intense hallucinations that I was some kind of American king, thinking everything belonged to me... I’ve forgotten most of those episodes, thank goodness 😁

Well, I thought I was Jesus too, but before that, I hallucinated that skunk weed was just regular grass, so... 🕺

That doesn't count, right?

Nicole Barrett76 said:The real danger lies in being miscategorized from the start, because once you're placed in the wrong box, the entire course of treatment follows that flawed logic.

Take the case of Dr. Bianca Vuksan Ćusa; she’s currently working in a department at Mayo Clinic, but back in 2002 and 2003, she was with the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. When I went to see her for my third appointment—mind you, I went there entirely on my own volition, nobody had to "push" or coerce me into seeking help—she handed me a diagnosis of intellectual disability. To make matters even more harrowing, she didn't have the decency to tell me that diagnosis to my face during the exam; instead, I suffered the shock alone while walking away from the hospital complex toward the bus stop for Saint Jude's.

Can you imagine being told you have cancer, only for the oncologist to lack the emotional fortitude to look you in the eye, dropping the news without offering any comfort during that initial, devastating shock?

She simply couldn't, wouldn't, or perhaps didn't deem it necessary to confront me directly and provide support while I processed the news, even if it was just for five or ten minutes to let the reality sink in. And here is the critical distinction: an oncologist isn't necessarily a specialist in human emotion, whereas a psychiatrist is supposed to be. One might find such a lapse excusable in an oncologist, though even then, it would be hard to forgive; but for a psychiatrist, it is fundamentally different.

Despite that initial failure, she remains the finest psychiatrist I have ever encountered. None of the others have measured up to her. In fact, I recommended her in the psychological recommendations just a few moments ago.

Once the initial shock subsided, I continued seeing her, yet I found myself unable to truly move past that moment. During one session, I finally blurted out, "You know what's new? I'm leaving." A psychiatrist shouldn't show surprise when a patient makes such a statement, but she couldn't hide her astonishment. By the very next session, after having issued that diagnosis, she corrected it and wrote a different one. She didn't treat me as if I were intellectually disabled.

But honestly, she had only seen me three times before throwing that diagnosis at me, despite all the circumstances suggesting otherwise—the only thing I could do during that third session was laugh, albeit unwillingly, while describing a conflict at work involving a child.

Naturally, I hoped for better therapy from other specialists, but what I experienced with two of them was so bad I won't even mention it. Now, I am seeing someone who is neither the pinnacle of the profession nor the absolute bottom; she is quite average. Yet, Dr. Vuksan knew how to treat me best, regardless of that initial diagnostic error.

So, Robin Lopez2, there is actually a significant benefit to not being "pigeonholed" right away. It forces clinicians to remain vigilant and meticulous when forming a diagnosis. Once that label is applied, however, a rigid treatment protocol follows, leaving very little room for nuance or adjustment.

Who is this idiot who wrote that you're mentally retarded? Seriously, what a joke. From what I've seen, you're just a guy dealing with health issues—physical ones, specifically. I don't see how that has anything to do with mental retardation. Good grief!

Joseph Bailey41 said:Well, I thought I was Jesus too, but before that, I hallucinated that skunk weed was just regular grass, so... 🕺

That doesn't count, right?

Actually, everything counts. In my opinion, the worst diagnoses are the ones you get from messing around with psychoactive substances. I know people who were pretty shaken up by it, and honestly, even I'm not entirely sure if I slipped into that headspace because of alcohol.

Then you look at the shamans over in India, who basically try every trick in the book to induce psychosis. What one person calls madness, someone else sees as entertainment. Personally, for the last four years, I've been fully committed to keeping my mind crystal clear. 😁

Laura Castillo6 said:Actually, everything counts. In my opinion, the worst diagnoses are the ones you get from messing around with psychoactive substances. I know people who were pretty shaken up by it, and honestly, even I'm not entirely sure if I slipped into that headspace because of alcohol.

Then you look at the shamans over in India, who basically try every trick in the book to induce psychosis. What one person calls madness, someone else sees as entertainment. Personally, for the last four years, I've been fully committed to keeping my mind crystal clear. 😁

I haven't touched anything myself in years either... alcohol makes me aggressive, weed makes me unnervingly peaceful, and neither of those is a good vibe. I haven't even managed to experience actual hallucinations even on stronger stuff, so that was the first thing to go from my routine. I haven't studied those Indian shamans specifically, so I don't know much about their ways... I know a bit about American and Mongolian traditions, some about core shamanism, and quite a bit about Norse practices, but I've never come across anything suggesting that psychosis is a goal there. A trance is something else entirely—it has a definite beginning and end, along with specific rules you're supposed to follow depending on the culture.

In America, people often struggle with their mental state because of religious beliefs. It’s probably due to those old stories, since it seems like everyone experiences the exact same types of hallucinations—whether they're seeing gods, government figures, or sexual imagery. But modern medicine tends to be pretty strict when it comes to those kinds of claims, stories, and personal convictions.

Why does this matter? Well, I think it all boils down to mystery. Humans are driven by the unknown—that deep-seated need to figure out the "why" behind everything. Our psychology is basically wired to hunt for meaning in everything we see, even in things that truly have none. That’s why so many people find it incredibly hard to accept certain diagnoses; they can't shake the feeling that there must be a deeper reason.

For me personally, the number one mystery is who actually makes our decisions. You could say it’s just the brain at work, but I have this nagging suspicion that the universe itself might be pulling the strings—though, of course, that would require the universe to possess some form of consciousness. That’s the big question for me now, especially since we've seen evidence suggesting that consciousness doesn't actually play much of a role in decision-making.

Aside from that one time, I haven't had any hallucinations, which is why I'm asking. Once, I spent an entire night watching birds all flying in the exact same direction, but my doctor insisted it was impossible and told me I was just hallucinating. Then, a few years later, it clicked—those were just migratory birds heading south. Another time, I thought I saw a Virgin Mary statue. I was sitting in a coffee shop, staring at this statue, thinking to myself, "There isn't actually a statue here," but I couldn't figure out what I was looking at. Later, I realized it was just a massive patio umbrella—a canvas canopy—that looked like a perfectly sculpted statue because it was covered in snow. And yeah, I did have one actual hallucination once when the title of a book called 'friendly whisper' suddenly changed to 'friendly whispering' right before my eyes. There's a whole story behind that one, too, but honestly, these sexual hallucinations are way more interesting. John, could you tell me a bit more about yours?