Schizophrenia - General Discussion

Harold Anderson3 said:I’ve actually been using Abilify Maintena (aripiprazole) for five years now, and before that, I spent seven years on Risperdal Consta (risperidone). Even though you hear people arguing about whether there's a functional difference between the injection version and the pill version of the same medication, I personally haven't noticed any real distinction. For me, it really just comes down to convenience. If you have the ability to visit your primary care doctor once a month or every couple of months without much trouble, and if you aren't particularly afraid of needles, I’d say go with the injection; it provides such a steady level in your system, and you don't have to worry about the whole "did I remember to take my pill today?" stress. That said, there is one downside: the shot can be pretty painful, especially if the nurse isn't particularly skilled at administering it (and we all know those types exist). I actually went in for my injection this past Monday, and the spot is still feeling quite sore because the nurse pushed the dose into my muscle a little too quickly. I haven't really had an experience like that before, so I'm not sure if she was just in a rush or what.🤷 Next time, I'll make sure to ask her to be a bit more gentle.

For a long time, I had to receive injections into deep muscle tissue, and the injection site would remain painful for three or four days. Since the medication was an oil-based preparation, it was quite difficult to depress the dose. (The medication is not a psychotropic drug.) Now, I wouldn't dare ask for one because, given the current situation with Coron, medical staff seem to be making mistakes more frequently. My local clinic is everywhere, yet they only staff half-time at the local community health center which serves about 1,500 people. I am not afraid of needles; I have been receiving them due to my own health issues since I was three or four years old. I am 47 now.

A friend of mine with schizophrenia takes an antipsychotic via injection. It costs $600. I believe my doctor mentioned the name, but I have forgotten it. Perhaps it is the one you are discussing.

Nicole Barrett76 said:For a long time, I had to receive injections into deep muscle tissue, and the injection site would remain painful for three or four days. Since the medication was an oil-based preparation, it was quite difficult to depress the dose. (The medication is not a psychotropic drug.) Now, I wouldn't dare ask for one because, given the current situation with Coron, medical staff seem to be making mistakes more frequently. My local clinic is everywhere, yet they only staff half-time at the local community health center which serves about 1,500 people. I am not afraid of needles; I have been receiving them due to my own health issues since I was three or four years old. I am 47 now.

A friend of mine with schizophrenia takes an antipsychotic via injection. It costs $600. I believe my doctor mentioned the name, but I have forgotten it. Perhaps it is the one you are discussing.

It seems like all the newer medications are incredibly pricey, and that isn't just limited to antipsychotics. To be fair, there isn't always a massive leap in quality when comparing the "new" stuff to the older versions, but once a pharmaceutical giant lands a patent on a new drug, they can drive the price through the roof—which, let's face it, is pretty much what everyone does. Of course, once other companies start churning out generics, you finally see that price drop down to something reasonable.

Harold Anderson3 said:I’ve actually been using Abilify Maintena (aripiprazole) for five years now, and before that, I spent seven years on Risperdal Consta (risperidone). Even though you hear people arguing about whether there's a functional difference between the injection version and the pill version of the same medication, I personally haven't noticed any real distinction. For me, it really just comes down to convenience. If you have the ability to visit your primary care doctor once a month or every couple of months without much trouble, and if you aren't particularly afraid of needles, I’d say go with the injection; it provides such a steady level in your system, and you don't have to worry about the whole "did I remember to take my pill today?" stress. That said, there is one downside: the shot can be pretty painful, especially if the nurse isn't particularly skilled at administering it (and we all know those types exist). I actually went in for my injection this past Monday, and the spot is still feeling quite sore because the nurse pushed the dose into my muscle a little too quickly. I haven't really had an experience like that before, so I'm not sure if she was just in a rush or what.🤷 Next time, I'll make sure to ask her to be a bit more gentle.

Could you walk me through why you decided to make the switch from Risperdal Consta over to Abilify Maintena? I’ve been wondering if Xeljanz is actually quite similar to Risperdal in terms of how it hits you. So many people seem to complain about their libido just completely disappearing, and honestly, on Xeljanz, I don't even feel like a sexual being anymore. Would transitioning to Abilify actually be a viable solution for that kind of thing? I was reading up on it, though, and it mentioned that one of the potential side effects of Abilify Maintena could be issues with impulse control.

Is pathological gambling actually its own distinct thing, or is it just one piece of a much larger, more complicated puzzle when it comes to impulse control disorders? I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit lately, wondering if we aren't looking at a broader spectrum of behavior that ties everything together. When you really dive into the mechanics of how an individual loses themselves to an urge—whether it's the rush of a high-stakes bet or some other compulsive cycle—it feels like there has to be a common thread running through all of it, doesn't it? I mean, if we look at how the brain processes rewards and those sudden spikes of dopamine, it seems almost inevitable that someone struggling with one type of compulsion might find themselves sliding into another. Is it possible that what we call "gambling disorder" is essentially just a specific manifestation of a much deeper, more systemic struggle with self-regulation? It makes me wonder if our diagnostic categories are capturing the true essence of these behaviors, or if we're just grouping different symptoms under various labels without fully grasping the underlying neurological engine driving them all. What do you all think—are we looking at separate islands of dysfunction, or is it all part of the same vast, turbulent ocean?
Could it be that patients experience an intensified surge in impulses—especially when it comes to gambling—alongside this overwhelming sense of being unable to pull back once they've started?
Have you ever wondered about the side effects that come along with taking aripiprazole? It’s something worth looking into, because besides the usual stuff, there have been documented instances of people experiencing intense impulses while on the medication. For instance, some folks have reported a significant increase in sexual drive, which can be quite a surprising thing to navigate when you're just trying to manage your health.
Is there anything more exhausting than that endless cycle of compulsive shopping, those uncontrollable binge eating episodes, or just that general sense of being driven by impulses you can't quite seem to reel in? It really makes you wonder where that line is drawn between a simple bad habit and something much deeper, doesn't it? When you find yourself caught in these loops—whether it's hitting "buy now" on something you don't need or reaching for food long after you're full—it feels less like a choice and more like an autopilot setting you never asked for. I often find myself reflecting on whether these behaviors are just isolated incidents or if they are part of a larger pattern of impulsivity that colors everything else in life. Is it possible that these urges are all interconnected, stemming from the same restless energy deep down?
When we talk about compulsive behaviors, there is such a vital layer to the conversation that often gets overlooked during a standard check-up. Don't you think it’s absolutely essential for the doctors prescribing these medications to go beyond the surface level? It isn't enough to just check off a list of side effects; they really need to be asking patients directly if they are experiencing those repetitive, driving urges that feel impossible to stop. If a physician isn't specifically probing into the realm of compulsions, how can we ever truly ensure the treatment is hitting the mark without causing new struggles?
I’ve been wondering about their caregivers lately—do you think they might have actually triggered something new, perhaps by inadvertently ramping up those intense urges? I can't help but wonder if there's a connection to an increased impulse to gamble, or maybe an uptick in sexual drives and other compulsive behaviors that just seem to be surfacing more aggressively now?
Is anyone else dealing with those sudden, intense urges—like compulsive shopping sprees, binge eating, or just other uncontrollable impulses—while you're on Aripiprazole? It’s such a strange thing to navigate, isn't it? You think you're finally finding some stability, and then suddenly, your brain starts screaming for a dopamine hit from a credit card swipe or a bag of chips. I feel like we really need to talk about this more openly because it can be so disorienting when your own impulses start feeling like they belong to someone else entirely. Have you noticed any patterns in when these cravings hit, or does it just feel like it comes out of nowhere? I’d love to hear how everyone else is managing these shifts while staying on track with their treatment.
Could there be a deeper connection between impulse control issues and the underlying disorder itself? It really makes you wonder if those sudden, uncontrollable urges aren't just separate symptoms, but are actually deeply intertwined with the core condition we're looking at?
But you know, in certain instances, we've actually seen cases where the progress just hits a wall—where things seem to stall out completely because the dose was tapered down too quickly or the medication was stopped altogether?
When we look at how these medications actually function in practice, it becomes clear that they aren't just about balancing chemicals—they're about managing behavior. If those underlying impulse control issues aren't properly identified and addressed, could the medication alone really be enough? It’s a serious thought, isn't it? Because if we miss those signs, the resulting lack of impulse control can end up doing real damage to the patient themselves.
The same goes for everyone else out there. If a patient starts experiencing those kinds of impulses while they're on Aripiprazole, wouldn't it be worth considering a dose reduction or perhaps looking into other options entirely?
So, I've been thinking quite a bit lately about what happens when you finally decide to stop taking a medication—that moment when you reach the end of a treatment plan and have to face the reality of tapering off. It’s such a significant turning point, isn't it? You spend all this time adjusting to a new routine, getting used to how a specific drug makes you feel, and then suddenly, the conversation shifts toward letting it go. I can't help but wonder, though, how much we truly prepare ourselves for that transition? It isn't just about stopping a pill or an injection; it's about navigating the physiological and psychological shift that follows. Does anyone else find themselves feeling a strange mix of liberation and anxiety when they contemplate stepping away from their prescription? It feels like such a delicate balancing act, trying to ensure stability while simultaneously moving toward a different chapter of health. Is it a smooth glide into a new phase, or does it feel more like walking a tightrope without a net?

How did you actually come to the decision to switch from one medication to another? Or was it more of a suggestion from your doctor that you just decided to follow? I’ve been doing some reading lately, and I came across mentions of Aripiprazole being considered a milder antipsychotic, which makes me wonder—do you have to be in a pretty stable state of remission before a doctor would even consider prescribing it to you?
So, I have to ask—during that entire stretch of seven plus five years, were you actually in full remission the whole time?

bluescout3 said:Could you walk me through why you decided to make the switch from Risperdal Consta over to Abilify Maintena? I’ve been wondering if Xeljanz is actually quite similar to Risperdal in terms of how it hits you. So many people seem to complain about their libido just completely disappearing, and honestly, on Xeljanz, I don't even feel like a sexual being anymore. Would transitioning to Abilify actually be a viable solution for that kind of thing? I was reading up on it, though, and it mentioned that one of the potential side effects of Abilify Maintena could be issues with impulse control.

Is pathological gambling actually its own distinct thing, or is it just one piece of a much larger, more complicated puzzle when it comes to impulse control disorders? I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit lately, wondering if we aren't looking at a broader spectrum of behavior that ties everything together. When you really dive into the mechanics of how an individual loses themselves to an urge—whether it's the rush of a high-stakes bet or some other compulsive cycle—it feels like there has to be a common thread running through all of it, doesn't it? I mean, if we look at how the brain processes rewards and those sudden spikes of dopamine, it seems almost inevitable that someone struggling with one type of compulsion might find themselves sliding into another. Is it possible that what we call "gambling disorder" is essentially just a specific manifestation of a much deeper, more systemic struggle with self-regulation? It makes me wonder if our diagnostic categories are capturing the true essence of these behaviors, or if we're just grouping different symptoms under various labels without fully grasping the underlying neurological engine driving them all. What do you all think—are we looking at separate islands of dysfunction, or is it all part of the same vast, turbulent ocean?
Could it be that patients experience an intensified surge in impulses—especially when it comes to gambling—alongside this overwhelming sense of being unable to pull back once they've started?
Have you ever wondered about the side effects that come along with taking aripiprazole? It’s something worth looking into, because besides the usual stuff, there have been documented instances of people experiencing intense impulses while on the medication. For instance, some folks have reported a significant increase in sexual drive, which can be quite a surprising thing to navigate when you're just trying to manage your health.
Is there anything more exhausting than that endless cycle of compulsive shopping, those uncontrollable binge eating episodes, or just that general sense of being driven by impulses you can't quite seem to reel in? It really makes you wonder where that line is drawn between a simple bad habit and something much deeper, doesn't it? When you find yourself caught in these loops—whether it's hitting "buy now" on something you don't need or reaching for food long after you're full—it feels less like a choice and more like an autopilot setting you never asked for. I often find myself reflecting on whether these behaviors are just isolated incidents or if they are part of a larger pattern of impulsivity that colors everything else in life. Is it possible that these urges are all interconnected, stemming from the same restless energy deep down?
When we talk about compulsive behaviors, there is such a vital layer to the conversation that often gets overlooked during a standard check-up. Don't you think it’s absolutely essential for the doctors prescribing these medications to go beyond the surface level? It isn't enough to just check off a list of side effects; they really need to be asking patients directly if they are experiencing those repetitive, driving urges that feel impossible to stop. If a physician isn't specifically probing into the realm of compulsions, how can we ever truly ensure the treatment is hitting the mark without causing new struggles?
I’ve been wondering about their caregivers lately—do you think they might have actually triggered something new, perhaps by inadvertently ramping up those intense urges? I can't help but wonder if there's a connection to an increased impulse to gamble, or maybe an uptick in sexual drives and other compulsive behaviors that just seem to be surfacing more aggressively now?
Is anyone else dealing with those sudden, intense urges—like compulsive shopping sprees, binge eating, or just other uncontrollable impulses—while you're on Aripiprazole? It’s such a strange thing to navigate, isn't it? You think you're finally finding some stability, and then suddenly, your brain starts screaming for a dopamine hit from a credit card swipe or a bag of chips. I feel like we really need to talk about this more openly because it can be so disorienting when your own impulses start feeling like they belong to someone else entirely. Have you noticed any patterns in when these cravings hit, or does it just feel like it comes out of nowhere? I’d love to hear how everyone else is managing these shifts while staying on track with their treatment.
Could there be a deeper connection between impulse control issues and the underlying disorder itself? It really makes you wonder if those sudden, uncontrollable urges aren't just separate symptoms, but are actually deeply intertwined with the core condition we're looking at?
But you know, in certain instances, we've actually seen cases where the progress just hits a wall—where things seem to stall out completely because the dose was tapered down too quickly or the medication was stopped altogether?
When we look at how these medications actually function in practice, it becomes clear that they aren't just about balancing chemicals—they're about managing behavior. If those underlying impulse control issues aren't properly identified and addressed, could the medication alone really be enough? It’s a serious thought, isn't it? Because if we miss those signs, the resulting lack of impulse control can end up doing real damage to the patient themselves.
The same goes for everyone else out there. If a patient starts experiencing those kinds of impulses while they're on Aripiprazole, wouldn't it be worth considering a dose reduction or perhaps looking into other options entirely?
So, I've been thinking quite a bit lately about what happens when you finally decide to stop taking a medication—that moment when you reach the end of a treatment plan and have to face the reality of tapering off. It’s such a significant turning point, isn't it? You spend all this time adjusting to a new routine, getting used to how a specific drug makes you feel, and then suddenly, the conversation shifts toward letting it go. I can't help but wonder, though, how much we truly prepare ourselves for that transition? It isn't just about stopping a pill or an injection; it's about navigating the physiological and psychological shift that follows. Does anyone else find themselves feeling a strange mix of liberation and anxiety when they contemplate stepping away from their prescription? It feels like such a delicate balancing act, trying to ensure stability while simultaneously moving toward a different chapter of health. Is it a smooth glide into a new phase, or does it feel more like walking a tightrope without a net?

How did you actually come to the decision to switch from one medication to another? Or was it more of a suggestion from your doctor that you just decided to follow? I’ve been doing some reading lately, and I came across mentions of Aripiprazole being considered a milder antipsychotic, which makes me wonder—do you have to be in a pretty stable state of remission before a doctor would even consider prescribing it to you?
So, I have to ask—during that entire stretch of seven plus five years, were you actually in full remission the whole time?

You make a fair point; Xeljanz is quite similar to Risperdal, though the main difference lies in the dosing schedule—Xeljanz is administered once a month, whereas Risperdal is given every two weeks.
I actually started on Abilify after my doctor mentioned there was an antipsychotic out there that could actually boost your mood and energy levels, rather than just dragging you down like most of the others do. That’s exactly what makes aripiprazole unique—it being the first of those third-generation antipsychotics. So, looking back, what you wrote about managing impulses really clicks with me. I spent some time using Azelaic acid before eventually making the switch over to Abilify.
The thing is, that medication doesn't quite catch all the psychosis symptoms on its own, so I end up pairing it with Ebysta (50 mg at night). And honestly, Ebysta... well, it pretty much knocks you sideways. On days when I have to work the morning shift, it takes me about two or three hours just to finally feel awake.
I haven’t been "on" constantly throughout these twelve years of living with schizophrenia; for the most part, I’ve stayed in remission. I still deal with occasional milder episodes every now and then, though I’ve never actually stopped taking my medication. I have ended up needing hospitalization twice in that time. Honestly, I feel like I’m always hovering somewhere on that thin line between depression, mania, and psychosis. You can crank up the dose of an antipsychotic—whether it’s Ebysta or something else—to the absolute limit, and while you might successfully stave off the psychosis, you end up feeling like a total walking zombie. It makes you wonder what the actual point of treatment is if that's the outcome. It feels like the whole goal is just trying to hunt down this elusive sense of balance. My mental state fluctuates quite a bit, so a single, fixed dosage often ends up being either way too heavy or not strong enough. Because of that, my doctor gives me some wiggle room to adjust my Ebysta between 25, 50, or 75 mg, depending on how I'm actually feeling at the moment.

Harold Anderson3 said:You make a fair point; Xeljanz is quite similar to Risperdal, though the main difference lies in the dosing schedule—Xeljanz is administered once a month, whereas Risperdal is given every two weeks.
I actually started on Abilify after my doctor mentioned there was an antipsychotic out there that could actually boost your mood and energy levels, rather than just dragging you down like most of the others do. That’s exactly what makes aripiprazole unique—it being the first of those third-generation antipsychotics. So, looking back, what you wrote about managing impulses really clicks with me. I spent some time using Azelaic acid before eventually making the switch over to Abilify.
The thing is, that medication doesn't quite catch all the psychosis symptoms on its own, so I end up pairing it with Ebysta (50 mg at night). And honestly, Ebysta... well, it pretty much knocks you sideways. On days when I have to work the morning shift, it takes me about two or three hours just to finally feel awake.
I haven’t been "on" constantly throughout these twelve years of living with schizophrenia; for the most part, I’ve stayed in remission. I still deal with occasional milder episodes every now and then, though I’ve never actually stopped taking my medication. I have ended up needing hospitalization twice in that time. Honestly, I feel like I’m always hovering somewhere on that thin line between depression, mania, and psychosis. You can crank up the dose of an antipsychotic—whether it’s Ebysta or something else—to the absolute limit, and while you might successfully stave off the psychosis, you end up feeling like a total walking zombie. It makes you wonder what the actual point of treatment is if that's the outcome. It feels like the whole goal is just trying to hunt down this elusive sense of balance. My mental state fluctuates quite a bit, so a single, fixed dosage often ends up being either way too heavy or not strong enough. Because of that, my doctor gives me some wiggle room to adjust my Ebysta between 25, 50, or 75 mg, depending on how I'm actually feeling at the moment.

Thanks so much for getting back to me! 👍

I happened to stumble upon an interview online with one of the most prominent psychiatrists working today, Karl Deisseroth.
He’s an author as well, and in one of his books, he explores the evolutionary link between malaria resistance and the life-threatening genetic disorder known as sickle cell anemia. For a child to actually be born with sickle cell disease, they have to inherit the sickle cell gene from both parents. However, if someone carries just a single copy, they actually benefit from a "sharp evolutionary advantage" by being resistant to deadly malaria. "These mutations are sharp measures, rapid hacks that continue to fight against the agonizingly slow arena of natural selection," he writes.

But even though we are standing on a "threshold" in our understanding of mental illness, grasping its evolutionary role still lags far behind our understanding of physical diseases. “With the sickle cell trait, those who receive the compensation aren't necessarily the ones who suffer. Is it also true for mental illnesses—that there is some benefit intended only for close relatives? Or, perhaps, could it be that those with mental illnesses gain a direct benefit—at some point, in some way?” he asks.

Best, bluescout3

bluescout3 said:Thanks so much for getting back to me! 👍

I happened to stumble upon an interview online with one of the most prominent psychiatrists working today, Karl Deisseroth.
He’s an author as well, and in one of his books, he explores the evolutionary link between malaria resistance and the life-threatening genetic disorder known as sickle cell anemia. For a child to actually be born with sickle cell disease, they have to inherit the sickle cell gene from both parents. However, if someone carries just a single copy, they actually benefit from a "sharp evolutionary advantage" by being resistant to deadly malaria. "These mutations are sharp measures, rapid hacks that continue to fight against the agonizingly slow arena of natural selection," he writes.

But even though we are standing on a "threshold" in our understanding of mental illness, grasping its evolutionary role still lags far behind our understanding of physical diseases. “With the sickle cell trait, those who receive the compensation aren't necessarily the ones who suffer. Is it also true for mental illnesses—that there is some benefit intended only for close relatives? Or, perhaps, could it be that those with mental illnesses gain a direct benefit—at some point, in some way?” he asks.

Best, bluescout3

Emily Hu, when it comes to discussing the genetics of mental illness, or schizophrenia specifically, it’s such a tricky subject to navigate. I honestly don't think schizophrenia will ever be completely wiped out because it affects so many people. Even if we were to go down a dark path—which would essentially border on fascism—and forbid anyone with schizophrenia from having children, it wouldn't work, simply because so many people carry the gene without ever actually developing the condition.

Schizophrenia feels a bit different from something like sickle cell anemia, mostly because I suspect the latter is purely genetic, whereas schizophrenia isn't quite that straightforward.

You see cases where both parents are ill and the children end up being affected about 50% of the time. You also see examples with identical twins—who are genetically identical and raised in virtually the same environment—where only about 50% of the time do both suffer; otherwise, it's just one of them.

That said, the heavy influence of genetics is proven by the fact that if only one parent is ill, the probability of the child developing it drops from 50% down to just 12%.

As for what else triggers the illness besides genes, we don't officially know. Whether it's a specific environmental trigger, a trauma experienced during early childhood, or something else entirely, we can only speculate. That's why the best solutions right now involve medication—either discovering new types or finding the perfect combination of existing ones. Of course, psychotherapy, especially cognitive behavioral therapy with a skilled therapist, is vital too. Unfortunately, I'm not in a position to afford regular therapy myself, and since my check-ups only happen once every two months, I find myself writing here on the forum quite a lot. 😁 😁

Hey Harold Anderson3, how many hours of sleep are you getting daily? I’m currently on 37.5mg of Seroquel and 2.5mg of Melatonin before bed, and I'm still pulling 12 hours a night. I have an appointment with my doctor in about three weeks to adjust my meds. I just can't keep living like this. Honestly, mad respect to you if you manage to get up and make it to work—that sounds impossible to me.

Sandra Lee2 said:Hey Harold Anderson3, how many hours of sleep are you getting daily? I’m currently on 37.5mg of Seroquel and 2.5mg of Melatonin before bed, and I'm still pulling 12 hours a night. I have an appointment with my doctor in about three weeks to adjust my meds. I just can't keep living like this. Honestly, mad respect to you if you manage to get up and make it to work—that sounds impossible to me.

I usually sleep pretty normally, getting about 7 or 8 hours when I'm on the morning shift and closer to 8 or 9 hours during the evening shift.
Even so, those 7 or 8 hours feel like they aren't quite enough, since I tend to hit a wall of exhaustion by the time Friday or Saturday rolls around.

Twelve hours is definitely a lot, though it might not necessarily be the medication's fault. It could just be underlying depression or maybe some kind of chronic fatigue. To be honest, 37.5 mg of Seroquel doesn't sound like a huge dose to me; I usually take 50 mg myself. I've even heard of people taking upwards of 500 or 600 mg a day, which sounds absolutely intense. 😲

What kind of facilities are actually available for seniors in their 80s dealing with schizophrenia? Are you placing your loved ones in standard assisted living communities, or do they require specialized psychiatric care?

I moved my aunt into a regular senior living facility, and I honestly feel like they don't recognize when her condition is deteriorating and she needs a medication review. I was hoping the staff would notice the changes, but there's been zero feedback from them.

Now, she’s trying to emotionally manipulate me because she’s unhappy there. She expected more attention from the nurses, so she complains constantly—acting like she’s "dying" every single day until I finally drive her to Los Angeles to get her meds adjusted.

The last time they stabilized her, we had about a month and a half of smooth communication... but now she's back in this downward spiral (she’s had a fall and is struggling with dizziness and mobility issues). She doesn't know how to manage the symptoms, and she blames everyone, claiming they don't believe her because her symptoms won't subside. She can't accept that there isn't an overnight fix (she's currently on a waiting list for physical therapy). A neurologist would likely prescribe something for the vertigo, but she's extremely cautious about mixing psychiatric meds with her glaucoma treatment... so we're back at square one, trying to fine-tune her regimen again.

How do your elderly relatives with schizophrenia handle the aging process?
Do they attempt to manipulate or emotionally blackmail you, complain incessantly, or struggle with a fear of death?

I’ve been feeling pretty rough for almost a month now. Honestly, there are moments where I just want to swear my head off—it all comes flooding back when I remember how everyone, even my own people, has constantly belittled me. They just don't respect what I say; they act like they're always right and treat everything I mention—whether it's about vision issues or those weird sensory floaters—like it's some kind of joke. It leaves me feeling pretty drained and, yeah, a little depressed.

So, this last psychiatrist I saw went ahead and prescribed me Prazina—which is actually for schizophrenia—even though I told her straight up that I needed something for anxiety and depression. And mind you, I’m already taking Moditen for the schizophrenia part, plus Apaurin to actually get some sleep. To top it all off, she basically nudged me into signing a waiver saying I was refusing hospitalization, which isn't even true. I didn't refuse anything.

People used to tell me that my old psychiatrist over at the EPA said if I was ever spiraling, I should come see him and the team, and if they couldn't help, the final option would be being admitted to the hospital.

It just brings back all those memories—like how it took nearly a decade of fighting through red tape just to get my disability benefits approved, even though I was entitled to them from day one. There’s so much more involving all sorts of stuff, but I've already touched on some of it. I can't even bring myself to recall the rest, and honestly, I really don't want to.

I'm heading back to see a new psychiatrist at the EPA tomorrow. It's such a shame they won't let me stay in the hospital anymore, mostly because they've started charging for every single exam now. It's frustrating, because the doctors back when I was actually in the hospital seemed to understand me so much better.

@ Alex Thomas7
Seriously, major props to this lady for pushing through all the way to 80 while dealing with her diagnosis.
Living with that kind of struggle is no joke—it’s rough—so the fact that you guys want to step up and help her says a lot about you.
Just a little heads-up though, older folks can be pretty set in their ways when it comes to change, and schizophrenia tends to give
someone a perspective that is just... well, lightyears away from how a healthy person sees the world.
People living with this condition often lose out on all those little things that actually make life worth living
and they end up facing those deep, "what's the point?" questions way earlier than the rest of us.
Honestly, I think there's so much we could actually learn from them—if only we could move past this
awful, pervasive mindset that people with mental illness are somehow less valuable or just
a burden to their families and society at large.🙂

Harold Anderson3 said:I usually sleep pretty normally, getting about 7 or 8 hours when I'm on the morning shift and closer to 8 or 9 hours during the evening shift.
Even so, those 7 or 8 hours feel like they aren't quite enough, since I tend to hit a wall of exhaustion by the time Friday or Saturday rolls around.

Twelve hours is definitely a lot, though it might not necessarily be the medication's fault. It could just be underlying depression or maybe some kind of chronic fatigue. To be honest, 37.5 mg of Seroquel doesn't sound like a huge dose to me; I usually take 50 mg myself. I've even heard of people taking upwards of 500 or 600 mg a day, which sounds absolutely intense. 😲

Actually, 500 mg is the standard therapeutic dose for Lexapro in men who smoke,
since smoking can cut the drug's concentration by up to half depending on the guy

Sean Hernandez3 said:Actually, 500 mg is the standard therapeutic dose for Lexapro in men who smoke,
since smoking can cut the drug's concentration by up to half depending on the guy

I’ve always felt that Risperdal offers one of the widest effective dosing ranges among all antipsychotics, where you might start as low as 25 mg a day and work your way up to 600.
So, while 500 mg is definitely getting close to the upper limit, I wouldn't necessarily call it the "standard" recommended dose.

Harold Anderson3 said:I’ve always felt that Risperdal offers one of the widest effective dosing ranges among all antipsychotics, where you might start as low as 25 mg a day and work your way up to 600.
So, while 500 mg is definitely getting close to the upper limit, I wouldn't necessarily call it the "standard" recommended dose.

For me, 25 mg was the dose, but hey, at least my kidneys didn't fail because of it. My legs swelled up like crazy and I couldn't even pee. I just can't touch certain stuff—meaning things like Tylenol, Risperdal, Qsymia, Appalachia, Modafinil, or Risperdal. Even Penicillin is off the table for me.

Risperdal messed with my kidneys, Qsymia makes me itchy, taking Appalachia with Modafinil just makes everything worse and sends me into an aggressive state. Risperdal sent me over the edge and landed me in a psych ward, and Tylenol did the exact same thing—my body probably just can't process it, because they actually found morphine in my urine. And Penicillin? It gave me a rash like a little kid.

🕺 😵

I mean, you all seem so content living on all those medications. I was reading this case study recently where someone was in a truly dire situation. Honestly, they went way too far with the therapy. It left her with such severe side effects. They eventually decided to scale back the treatment, which actually helped her health, but they write about it so openly, almost like it was a success story. It’s a miracle she even survived that initial dosage when things were so overmedicated. And then, to top it off, they claim the patient gave consent for the case study?! If she hadn't survived that massive overdose, she obviously wouldn't be around to give consent. A family member of mine used to work in a similar field. He's passed away now, but I think he moved away from direct hospital care to a different role just so he wouldn't have to witness the unnecessary degradation of patients. He had that choice, you know. Even back then, he told me how bad things are in geriatric wards—people are dying in droves. The real problem is that nobody is doing anything about it. We had a mobile, active elderly neighbor pass away after only a week in one of those units. And don't even get me started on this one young man; I'm not saying he wasn't ill, but they basically turned him into a vegetable with those heavy-duty drugs.

mistyjackal842 said:I mean, you all seem so content living on all those medications. I was reading this case study recently where someone was in a truly dire situation. Honestly, they went way too far with the therapy. It left her with such severe side effects. They eventually decided to scale back the treatment, which actually helped her health, but they write about it so openly, almost like it was a success story. It’s a miracle she even survived that initial dosage when things were so overmedicated. And then, to top it off, they claim the patient gave consent for the case study?! If she hadn't survived that massive overdose, she obviously wouldn't be around to give consent. A family member of mine used to work in a similar field. He's passed away now, but I think he moved away from direct hospital care to a different role just so he wouldn't have to witness the unnecessary degradation of patients. He had that choice, you know. Even back then, he told me how bad things are in geriatric wards—people are dying in droves. The real problem is that nobody is doing anything about it. We had a mobile, active elderly neighbor pass away after only a week in one of those units. And don't even get me started on this one young man; I'm not saying he wasn't ill, but they basically turned him into a vegetable with those heavy-duty drugs.

Are you bringing this same nonsense here too?

Carol Barrett2 said:For me, 25 mg was the dose, but hey, at least my kidneys didn't fail because of it. My legs swelled up like crazy and I couldn't even pee. I just can't touch certain stuff—meaning things like Tylenol, Risperdal, Qsymia, Appalachia, Modafinil, or Risperdal. Even Penicillin is off the table for me.

Risperdal messed with my kidneys, Qsymia makes me itchy, taking Appalachia with Modafinil just makes everything worse and sends me into an aggressive state. Risperdal sent me over the edge and landed me in a psych ward, and Tylenol did the exact same thing—my body probably just can't process it, because they actually found morphine in my urine. And Penicillin? It gave me a rash like a little kid.

🕺 😵

I am so sorry you're dealing with such a heavy load of side effects. So many people struggle with them, though I suppose I’m one of the lucky ones who seems to tolerate psychotropic meds quite well. I don't really experience any adverse reactions, even while taking 50-100 mg of Risperdal. It’s perfectly normal for me to feel sleepy from the Risperdal and Lamictal, but I don't view that as a side effect, since those medications are designed to calm you down and help you sleep. That’s why I take them right before bed. It used to be a real struggle back when I worked the night shift, but even then, I’d just time them for after my shift so I could sleep during the day.

I have a friend who also struggles immensely with side effects, even when he's on tiny doses. He deals with psychosis, but the physical toll of the medication really wore him down, causing him to withdraw completely from everyone. He acts like his life is essentially over, and he’s even had psychotic episodes triggered by physical ailments. He became convinced he had a brain tumor—he could actually "feel" it—and he had basically made peace with dying. As it turned out, there was nothing wrong with his brain at all; it was just the psychosis manifesting as extreme hypochondria.

I'm sharing this because I think it's important to realize how much our own thoughts can influence the outcome of our treatment, whether those thoughts are positive or negative. We need to stay grounded in reality, but we also need to try and maintain some optimism (just don't get too carried away with the news about 🙂)

Harold Anderson3 said:I am so sorry you're dealing with such a heavy load of side effects. So many people struggle with them, though I suppose I’m one of the lucky ones who seems to tolerate psychotropic meds quite well. I don't really experience any adverse reactions, even while taking 50-100 mg of Risperdal. It’s perfectly normal for me to feel sleepy from the Risperdal and Lamictal, but I don't view that as a side effect, since those medications are designed to calm you down and help you sleep. That’s why I take them right before bed. It used to be a real struggle back when I worked the night shift, but even then, I’d just time them for after my shift so I could sleep during the day.

I have a friend who also struggles immensely with side effects, even when he's on tiny doses. He deals with psychosis, but the physical toll of the medication really wore him down, causing him to withdraw completely from everyone. He acts like his life is essentially over, and he’s even had psychotic episodes triggered by physical ailments. He became convinced he had a brain tumor—he could actually "feel" it—and he had basically made peace with dying. As it turned out, there was nothing wrong with his brain at all; it was just the psychosis manifesting as extreme hypochondria.

I'm sharing this because I think it's important to realize how much our own thoughts can influence the outcome of our treatment, whether those thoughts are positive or negative. We need to stay grounded in reality, but we also need to try and maintain some optimism (just don't get too carried away with the news about 🙂)

Being okay is hard. 😬 You're right about everything. I'm doing alright now, though. Currently on Moditin/Pfizer, Prazine/Pfizer, plus some afternoon Azolar/Pfizer and Appalachia if needed.

I'm functioning surprisingly well—well, as well as I ever can, anyway. I can handle things on my own to an extent, but if I need to head outside my neighborhood into unfamiliar areas, I can't really go anywhere without someone coming along. I even need help with bathing. It's a mess, honestly.

Since I started using these forums, I've been sleeping less. I don't know if anyone noticed me complaining about narcolepsy before, but I was sleeping way too much and was constantly lethargic. Now I sleep less—maybe two or three times a day for 1 to 5 hours at a time. Before, I'd be sleeping every 10 to 20 hours, and I didn't complain about the drowsiness nearly as much.

My brother-in-law actually asked me recently if I'd noticed I wasn't mentioning being sleepy anymore. Apparently, back when I used to visit them with my old man, I was always talking about how tired I was—sometimes even nodding off right there.

I'm doing better on these boards, I won't lie. But I tell my family that it's perfectly normal to end up back in the psychiatric ward sometimes, since relapses are just part of living with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. They just don't get it.

Who knows? Maybe they're just worried about me.

Man, this illness is just brutal... Reading through everything you guys are going through (I'm not the one sick, my son is), it’s honestly pretty terrifying. He’s in remission right now, I guess, but I can't help worrying about his future and what his life is even going to look like. He's 25 now, just stays inside, doesn't work, doesn't go out, doesn't really hang with anyone besides a few close family members. He tells me he feels fine, but after reading all your stories, I suspect he's struggling way more than he lets on.
I don't even know, honestly, who has it worse—him or me as a parent.
How do you even escape this nightmare?

Carol Barrett2 said:Being okay is hard. 😬 You're right about everything. I'm doing alright now, though. Currently on Moditin/Pfizer, Prazine/Pfizer, plus some afternoon Azolar/Pfizer and Appalachia if needed.

I'm functioning surprisingly well—well, as well as I ever can, anyway. I can handle things on my own to an extent, but if I need to head outside my neighborhood into unfamiliar areas, I can't really go anywhere without someone coming along. I even need help with bathing. It's a mess, honestly.

Since I started using these forums, I've been sleeping less. I don't know if anyone noticed me complaining about narcolepsy before, but I was sleeping way too much and was constantly lethargic. Now I sleep less—maybe two or three times a day for 1 to 5 hours at a time. Before, I'd be sleeping every 10 to 20 hours, and I didn't complain about the drowsiness nearly as much.

My brother-in-law actually asked me recently if I'd noticed I wasn't mentioning being sleepy anymore. Apparently, back when I used to visit them with my old man, I was always talking about how tired I was—sometimes even nodding off right there.

I'm doing better on these boards, I won't lie. But I tell my family that it's perfectly normal to end up back in the psychiatric ward sometimes, since relapses are just part of living with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. They just don't get it.

Who knows? Maybe they're just worried about me.

If you actually have narcolepsy, talk to your doctor; there are treatments for that.