Schizophrenia - General Discussion

Rebecca Rivera3 said:Back when I was at my lowest—before everything really hit the fan—I didn't believe in anything except pure logic. I think I actually suppressed all my emotions on purpose because I wanted to distance myself from anything that wasn't strictly scientific. It wasn't until I started feeling like I was losing my mind that I actually began questioning things like the soul...

Since I've started trying to be more mindful of my spiritual side, I feel like I'm handling my internal struggles much better...
darksurfer4, you're absolutely right; the soul is everything. Without it, we aren't even whole. Medication doesn't "cure" the soul, it just helps ease the fight. I actually just took one to help me sleep... I've been having some pretty intense nightmares lately.

Rebecca Rivera3, hang in there. Regardless of what you're going through right now, I assume you realize that hallucinations are a serious matter, and you probably ought to seek professional help rather than just suffering and fighting this out on your own. Auditory hallucinations are usually the worst, especially when the voices start giving you orders. There will be plenty of time later to debate the existence of the "soul," but for now, the priority should probably be finding some medication to help you manage that internal struggle. What are you taking to sleep? Xanax, Diazepam, or maybe something like Ativan?

Joseph Fowler33 said:Thanks for the info! Just wondering, though—is 900 mg a day considered a high dose?

It’s relatively high, I suppose. I imagine it probably makes you feel quite drowsy, doesn't it? Aside from its role as a mood stabilizer, valproate is also utilized for certain types of epilepsy, though that likely isn't relevant to your specific situation.

I’ve dealt with auditory hallucinations before, and I managed to get them under control—they haven't come back since. Although... one day I had a hallucination where I was absolutely convinced the ghost from Harry Potter was right there in my room with me. He stayed for an entire day... including through the evening. By the next morning, he was gone.
Of course, I know it wasn't actually him, but in my head, it felt incredibly real.
Anyway, it's over now. No voices, nothing. I'm doing okay...
You're completely right, bluedrifter45; I am fully aware that I shouldn't be acting this way and that I need professional help. For sleep, I take some Melatonin or maybe Advil, so I just take whatever helps, even though I know pills aren't a cure.

Rebecca Rivera3 said:I’ve dealt with auditory hallucinations before, and I managed to get them under control—they haven't come back since. Although... one day I had a hallucination where I was absolutely convinced the ghost from Harry Potter was right there in my room with me. He stayed for an entire day... including through the evening. By the next morning, he was gone.
Of course, I know it wasn't actually him, but in my head, it felt incredibly real.
Anyway, it's over now. No voices, nothing. I'm doing okay...
You're completely right, bluedrifter45; I am fully aware that I shouldn't be acting this way and that I need professional help. For sleep, I take some Melatonin or maybe Advil, so I just take whatever helps, even though I know pills aren't a cure.

I'm just asking because I doubt I'd be the first person to deal with nightmares or hallucinations while on Ambien, so maybe try to keep an eye out for that too.🙂

I get that, but it wasn't because of any medication—I wasn't taking anything at the time... plus, I already deal with night terrors.
But that specific day, it was a conscious hallucination, if that’s even a thing. It followed me around all day and didn't let up until the next morning... thank God that's over.

bluedrifter45 said:It’s relatively high, I suppose. I imagine it probably makes you feel quite drowsy, doesn't it? Aside from its role as a mood stabilizer, valproate is also utilized for certain types of epilepsy, though that likely isn't relevant to your specific situation.

I’ve been taking two tablets—that's 600 mg total—about two hours before I hit the hay, and honestly, I’m out like a light. Even with these brutal summer heatwaves we've been having lately, I sleep like a baby. The only catch is that waking up in the morning is a real struggle. It feels like the medication stays in my system for about ten hours, but my body is just used to a solid seven or eight hours of shut-eye. Still, before I started using them, actually falling asleep was an absolute nightmare.

bluedrifter45 said:I'm just asking because I doubt I'd be the first person to deal with nightmares or hallucinations while on Ambien, so maybe try to keep an eye out for that too.🙂

I’ve been using 5 mg of Ambien to help me drift off, but honestly, I feel like I'm taking straight-up poison. I try to keep it to a rare occasion because, man, the morning after is brutal. I don't really deal with night terrors or hallucinations or anything weird like that, but waking up? It's like being hit by a freight train. Total zombie mode.

What’s your take on schizophrenia diagnoses? For those who have actually lived through it—share your experiences. I was diagnosed with F-23.2, an acute psychotic disorder similar to schizophrenia. Even though this went on for four years, and I dealt with auditory hallucinations 24/7 along with the irrational belief that demons were persecuting me—demons that spoke to me and devilish snakes that had possessed me and were giving me orders—they still didn't give me a schizophrenia diagnosis. Instead, they labeled it as an acute phase disorder similar to schizophrenia.

How did you receive your schizophrenia diagnosis? What specific symptoms were used to justify it?

I know plenty of people who've been slapped with an Acute Psychotic Disorder diagnosis
but they don't actually have schizophrenia—hearing voices is a whole different thing. Still, it's the psychiatrist who calls the shots on whether you've got it or not...
they just toss that diagnosis around way too easily

Richard White8, I'll try to address this...
My diagnosis came through three months ago, listed as 60.1 and 20.6.
Basically, simple schizophrenia and a schizoid personality type.
I actually requested my own evaluation at the Mayo Clinic psychiatry department in Seattle while feeling relatively stable. My clinical status was recorded as follows: responsive to preverbal impressions, providing brief answers without spontaneity, anxious, with reduced affect, insecure, quiet, no concrete delusions or hallucinations, diminished volitional drive, and cognitively appearing frozen.
The recommendation😛was an antipsychotic medication.

Afterward, I was completely blindsided by the diagnosis. I went straight to my private psychiatrist—the one I’ve been seeing for years, though unfortunately, we hadn't seen any progress under what she used to call "recurrent depressive disorder."
So, there I was: two psychiatrists, two different diagnoses.
At first, I was convinced the doctor in Seattle had totally missed the mark and felt ashamed he would even write such a thing. But the sad reality is that life eventually reveals the truth, even when you desperately want to believe otherwise. To start with, psychology isn't an exact science, so you can't always rely on it blindly, but the results speak for themselves. Statistically speaking, I spent six years being treated unsuccessfully for "depression" using various antidepressants. I tried almost everything, and none of them worked; they just gave me side effects. Eventually, my regular psychiatrist admitted she wasn't sure how to handle me anymore and prescribed a mild antipsychotic in a small dose, thinking it might help since she believed depression could be managed with certain types of antipsychotics. For the first time in my life, that medication actually worked—it allowed me to function normally. Because she knows me so well, she realized she had been heading in the wrong direction all those years. She sent me to the Mayo Clinic, where I received a clear schizo diagnosis during the very first exam. It sounds absurd—you'd think, "What is this guy talking about? Who is he to decide what's right?"—but looking back, my longtime psychiatrist knew this new diagnosis was correct. It was just nearly impossible for both of us to admit it at the time. Time has finally proven it.
While nothing can ever be stated with absolute certainty, my life and everything I look back on confirms what I didn't want to face. Still, I believe this has always been part of me, deep down, and it existed long before anyone ever wrote it on a chart. It doesn't change who I am. Moving forward, I will always try to ensure this has as little negative impact as possible on my life, my family, and the people I care about.

Rebecca Rivera3 said:Richard White8, I'll try to address this...
My diagnosis came through three months ago, listed as 60.1 and 20.6.
Basically, simple schizophrenia and a schizoid personality type.
I actually requested my own evaluation at the Mayo Clinic psychiatry department in Seattle while feeling relatively stable. My clinical status was recorded as follows: responsive to preverbal impressions, providing brief answers without spontaneity, anxious, with reduced affect, insecure, quiet, no concrete delusions or hallucinations, diminished volitional drive, and cognitively appearing frozen.
The recommendation😛was an antipsychotic medication.

Afterward, I was completely blindsided by the diagnosis. I went straight to my private psychiatrist—the one I’ve been seeing for years, though unfortunately, we hadn't seen any progress under what she used to call "recurrent depressive disorder."
So, there I was: two psychiatrists, two different diagnoses.
At first, I was convinced the doctor in Seattle had totally missed the mark and felt ashamed he would even write such a thing. But the sad reality is that life eventually reveals the truth, even when you desperately want to believe otherwise. To start with, psychology isn't an exact science, so you can't always rely on it blindly, but the results speak for themselves. Statistically speaking, I spent six years being treated unsuccessfully for "depression" using various antidepressants. I tried almost everything, and none of them worked; they just gave me side effects. Eventually, my regular psychiatrist admitted she wasn't sure how to handle me anymore and prescribed a mild antipsychotic in a small dose, thinking it might help since she believed depression could be managed with certain types of antipsychotics. For the first time in my life, that medication actually worked—it allowed me to function normally. Because she knows me so well, she realized she had been heading in the wrong direction all those years. She sent me to the Mayo Clinic, where I received a clear schizo diagnosis during the very first exam. It sounds absurd—you'd think, "What is this guy talking about? Who is he to decide what's right?"—but looking back, my longtime psychiatrist knew this new diagnosis was correct. It was just nearly impossible for both of us to admit it at the time. Time has finally proven it.
While nothing can ever be stated with absolute certainty, my life and everything I look back on confirms what I didn't want to face. Still, I believe this has always been part of me, deep down, and it existed long before anyone ever wrote it on a chart. It doesn't change who I am. Moving forward, I will always try to ensure this has as little negative impact as possible on my life, my family, and the people I care about.

So, you had six years of the wrong diagnosis and the wrong treatment with antidepressants instead of antipsychotics.
Forgive me for asking, but based on what? On what basis did they give you the F.20.6 diagnosis—simple schizophrenia—based solely on what you've told us?

My own diagnosis seems strange to me because I explicitly pointed out to the psychiatrist that my condition has lasted four years, whereas an acute psychotic disorder lasts, by definition, only a month.

It's not that I regret them not giving me a diagnosis of pure schizophrenia or paranoid schizophrenia; the treatment would have been the same—heavy doses of antipsychotics, cycling through five or six different ones until we found the right fit.
But given my symptoms, I find it baffling that they categorized it as something akin to schizophrenia, considering I lived for four years with commanding auditory hallucinations, constantly persecuted by voices.

I've finally stopped taking my antipsychotics because the voices have vanished—thank God. It’s become perfectly clear now that they were just my own brain playing tricks on me, not actual entities.

It’s pretty funny, Richard White8, when you say... what exactly gave them the idea to diagnose me with simple schizophrenia just based on what I told them... hehe... that couldn't be further from the truth... not even close...
Maybe this doesn't give you the full picture, but I'm going to try my best to explain who I actually am in real life, not just how I sound here behind a screen.
In reality, I barely speak, let alone engage in actual communication, unless it's absolutely necessary. I don't have friends; I have nothing outside of my work. Imagine how lonely it looks to see a 28-year-old woman who can't even make eye contact, much less be near someone or be touched. When I do talk, it takes a massive effort just to force out an answer to a question, if I even bother to respond at all. What do you think my social life looks like? All these years, I've basically just been sleeping... I finished my degree, but aside from campus, I haven't gone anywhere else. I don't have a boyfriend, nor have I ever had one. Even if I did find someone attractive, my emotions are so numb that they just fade away instantly. Not to mention, I've never even cleared the most basic hurdle of actually going out with someone...

So tell me... isn't that tragic? But what's even more heartbreaking is the thought of actually trying to go out and be around people...

I struggle to say even a single word, and it shows, no matter how hard I try to hide it... and that's what hurts... because people aren't stupid; most of them realize pretty quickly that something is wrong with me, so they just move on...

Over the last few months, I’ve been putting a lot of work into being more communicative and initiating conversations—things most people just do naturally. For me, it takes a significant amount of effort, but looking at the big picture, I can feel myself making progress, even if there are still good days and bad days.

Rebecca Rivera3 said:It’s pretty funny, Richard White8, when you say... what exactly gave them the idea to diagnose me with simple schizophrenia just based on what I told them... hehe... that couldn't be further from the truth... not even close...
Maybe this doesn't give you the full picture, but I'm going to try my best to explain who I actually am in real life, not just how I sound here behind a screen.
In reality, I barely speak, let alone engage in actual communication, unless it's absolutely necessary. I don't have friends; I have nothing outside of my work. Imagine how lonely it looks to see a 28-year-old woman who can't even make eye contact, much less be near someone or be touched. When I do talk, it takes a massive effort just to force out an answer to a question, if I even bother to respond at all. What do you think my social life looks like? All these years, I've basically just been sleeping... I finished my degree, but aside from campus, I haven't gone anywhere else. I don't have a boyfriend, nor have I ever had one. Even if I did find someone attractive, my emotions are so numb that they just fade away instantly. Not to mention, I've never even cleared the most basic hurdle of actually going out with someone...

So tell me... isn't that tragic? But what's even more heartbreaking is the thought of actually trying to go out and be around people...

I struggle to say even a single word, and it shows, no matter how hard I try to hide it... and that's what hurts... because people aren't stupid; most of them realize pretty quickly that something is wrong with me, so they just move on...

I feel for you. It’s a tough spot to be in. Are you currently on any antipsychotics? My experience was actually the exact opposite. During my psychotic episodes, I became incredibly talkative—almost dangerously so. I would strike up conversations with complete strangers, like approaching tourists out of nowhere and even inviting them back to my place. I never would have done that before this started. However, my schizophrenia hasn't been one-note. There were stretches where I lived in total isolation for two years. I wouldn't see anyone. My schedule was completely flipped; I’d sleep until 8:00 PM, head out for a coffee at 10:00 PM, and then go to bed at 10:00 AM. During those times, I was constantly alone with the voices. The only person I spoke to was my grandmother over the phone. Then, I’d hit a phase of intense sociability, where I'd approach people in bars or clubs just like I mentioned before—I even made a friend that way. Before getting sick, I was never that outgoing with strangers.

Once I started on high doses of antipsychotics, my drive to talk or engage with anyone just vanished. As the dosage was gradually tapered down, my ability to hold a conversation steadily returned.
A friend of mine has been diagnosed with psychosis and is on massive doses of antipsychotics. It’s made him incredibly quiet. Extremely quiet. We hang out often because I genuinely enjoy his company, but we don't really talk. Most of our time is spent just sitting there in silence, drinking coffee and smoking. I find myself constantly searching for something—anything—to ask him just to get a reaction, and then he’ll give me an answer. On a typical two-hour coffee run, we might actually converse for maybe twenty minutes; the rest of the time is just silence and chain-smoking.

I’ve become so accustomed to quiet coffee dates that sitting through a two-hour conversation feels exhausting now. It's especially draining because my way of communicating has shifted. I no longer fight for every word or feel the need to prove a point just to win an argument. I've become more passive; I simply let others take the lead in the conversation.

Those are all just symptoms of the illness. Personally, I have no regrets about taking those antipsychotics. Even though they left me feeling a bit sluggish, they successfully addressed my primary issues: the hallucinations and delusions.

Are you staying consistent with your medication? I seem to recall you mentioning a while back that you weren't interested in taking anything. Is that really a wise move? For me, the treatment has been effective. I have a friend who stays completely stable on his regimen; he’s actually making great progress with his PhD right now. Without those meds, he wouldn't be able to function or hold down a job at all. Even with them, he's had to deal with five or six hospitalizations, but without the medication, it would be an absolute disaster.

Beyond just medication, you really ought to look into psychotherapy. I'm not entirely sure which specific school of thought would suit your situation best, but it's worth exploring. The biggest downside is having to shell out for private practitioners.

Richard White8 said:I feel for you. It’s a tough spot to be in. Are you currently on any antipsychotics? My experience was actually the exact opposite. During my psychotic episodes, I became incredibly talkative—almost dangerously so. I would strike up conversations with complete strangers, like approaching tourists out of nowhere and even inviting them back to my place. I never would have done that before this started. However, my schizophrenia hasn't been one-note. There were stretches where I lived in total isolation for two years. I wouldn't see anyone. My schedule was completely flipped; I’d sleep until 8:00 PM, head out for a coffee at 10:00 PM, and then go to bed at 10:00 AM. During those times, I was constantly alone with the voices. The only person I spoke to was my grandmother over the phone. Then, I’d hit a phase of intense sociability, where I'd approach people in bars or clubs just like I mentioned before—I even made a friend that way. Before getting sick, I was never that outgoing with strangers.

Once I started on high doses of antipsychotics, my drive to talk or engage with anyone just vanished. As the dosage was gradually tapered down, my ability to hold a conversation steadily returned.
A friend of mine has been diagnosed with psychosis and is on massive doses of antipsychotics. It’s made him incredibly quiet. Extremely quiet. We hang out often because I genuinely enjoy his company, but we don't really talk. Most of our time is spent just sitting there in silence, drinking coffee and smoking. I find myself constantly searching for something—anything—to ask him just to get a reaction, and then he’ll give me an answer. On a typical two-hour coffee run, we might actually converse for maybe twenty minutes; the rest of the time is just silence and chain-smoking.

I’ve become so accustomed to quiet coffee dates that sitting through a two-hour conversation feels exhausting now. It's especially draining because my way of communicating has shifted. I no longer fight for every word or feel the need to prove a point just to win an argument. I've become more passive; I simply let others take the lead in the conversation.

Those are all just symptoms of the illness. Personally, I have no regrets about taking those antipsychotics. Even though they left me feeling a bit sluggish, they successfully addressed my primary issues: the hallucinations and delusions.

Are you staying consistent with your medication? I seem to recall you mentioning a while back that you weren't interested in taking anything. Is that really a wise move? For me, the treatment has been effective. I have a friend who stays completely stable on his regimen; he’s actually making great progress with his PhD right now. Without those meds, he wouldn't be able to function or hold down a job at all. Even with them, he's had to deal with five or six hospitalizations, but without the medication, it would be an absolute disaster.

Beyond just medication, you really ought to look into psychotherapy. I'm not entirely sure which specific school of thought would suit your situation best, but it's worth exploring. The biggest downside is having to shell out for private practitioners.

Sorry, but which medications were you on, or are you on now? 😁

Jamie Lewis said:Sorry, but which medications were you on, or are you on now? 😁

Regarding antipsychotics, I started with Azulay (aripiprazole) for a month at up to 30 mg, but I couldn't tolerate it.
Then I switched to Moditen 2 mg for a month. It caused leg stiffness, so they also prescribed me Akineton.
After that, Zeldox was introduced, starting with low doses and eventually reaching a maximum of 2 x 80 mg, along with 1 mg of Moditen.
I stayed on Zeldox, but they discontinued the Moditen and put me on Haldol—2 x 2 mg.
After two or three months of combining Haldol and Zeldox, everything was scrapped because the hallucinations wouldn't stop, so they prescribed Serdolect—which gave me heart palpitations.
We then reverted to Zeldox and Moditen. A few months later, the doctor decided to drop the Moditen because it was too heavy and warned it would cause eye twitching.

Since then, I have been on Zeldox monotherapy. I went from 2 x 80 mg down to 1 x 80 mg, then to 1 x 60 mg, and finally, for six months, 1 x 20 mg. That was the lowest dose.

I haven't taken any since about two months ago.

As for antidepressants, I took Faverin for two months, but it was discontinued because it wasn't helping. Then I took Zoloft for a month, which was also discontinued.

For anxiolytics, I used Xanax SR (extended release) at 1 mg, plus Ativan 0.5 mg.

I also used Prazin—2 x 50 mg—to help with sleep.

Basically, now I only take the lighter ones: Xanax, Prazin, Ativan in the evening, and Diazepam as needed.

I cannot quite put my finger on why, but I found myself reminiscing about an encounter I once had with a man living with schizophrenia.

A long time ago, back when my understanding of schizophrenia was still quite limited, I actually attempted to intervene and help a patient dial back his extreme religious fanaticism. He was, quite frankly, an ultra-devout believer.

He would engage in acts of self-harm—I suspect he was experiencing command hallucinations—and at the time, he actually had several fingers wrapped in bandages because he had cut himself.

Beyond his intense religious fervor, he also had a tendency to surround himself with young women.

Around that period, there was a news report circulating regarding the failing health of Pope John Paul II. Because my vision is quite poor, I failed to notice that a few young girls were standing nearby. Assuming we were speaking privately, I remarked in a perfectly casual tone that the Pope was losing God's grace.

Immediately, he began to argue with me, and a young girl who frequently accompanied him approached us, rebuking me loudly for suggesting such things about the Pope. Sensing imminent danger, I tried to assess whether his volatility posed a threat to her as well and how we might best distance ourselves from him. Just then, a third person who knew me called out my name; she told me I was needed elsewhere, so I followed her away.

That individual later advised me that I should never provoke a conversation on such sensitive topics with him, given his condition. Even though I was aware of his diagnosis, I truly believed I was doing something helpful by trying to nudge him toward a more rational perspective. It was only much later, after we had walked a significant distance, that I suddenly remembered that young girl and asked what had become of her. The woman glanced back quickly and simply said the children had gone off to play, leaving him alone for a moment before he continued on his way.

Nicole Barrett76 said:I cannot quite put my finger on why, but I found myself reminiscing about an encounter I once had with a man living with schizophrenia.

A long time ago, back when my understanding of schizophrenia was still quite limited, I actually attempted to intervene and help a patient dial back his extreme religious fanaticism. He was, quite frankly, an ultra-devout believer.

He would engage in acts of self-harm—I suspect he was experiencing command hallucinations—and at the time, he actually had several fingers wrapped in bandages because he had cut himself.

Beyond his intense religious fervor, he also had a tendency to surround himself with young women.

Around that period, there was a news report circulating regarding the failing health of Pope John Paul II. Because my vision is quite poor, I failed to notice that a few young girls were standing nearby. Assuming we were speaking privately, I remarked in a perfectly casual tone that the Pope was losing God's grace.

Immediately, he began to argue with me, and a young girl who frequently accompanied him approached us, rebuking me loudly for suggesting such things about the Pope. Sensing imminent danger, I tried to assess whether his volatility posed a threat to her as well and how we might best distance ourselves from him. Just then, a third person who knew me called out my name; she told me I was needed elsewhere, so I followed her away.

That individual later advised me that I should never provoke a conversation on such sensitive topics with him, given his condition. Even though I was aware of his diagnosis, I truly believed I was doing something helpful by trying to nudge him toward a more rational perspective. It was only much later, after we had walked a significant distance, that I suddenly remembered that young girl and asked what had become of her. The woman glanced back quickly and simply said the children had gone off to play, leaving him alone for a moment before he continued on his way.

Good grief, this whole story sounds a bit psychotic. The kid, the Pope losing God's grace, then the kid vanishing.
Schizophrenics can converse normally and function fine if they take their medication, or if they have recovered and stopped therapy.
This seems more related to his religious convictions than to his schizophrenia.

Richard White8 said:Regarding antipsychotics, I started with Azulay (aripiprazole) for a month at up to 30 mg, but I couldn't tolerate it.
Then I switched to Moditen 2 mg for a month. It caused leg stiffness, so they also prescribed me Akineton.
After that, Zeldox was introduced, starting with low doses and eventually reaching a maximum of 2 x 80 mg, along with 1 mg of Moditen.
I stayed on Zeldox, but they discontinued the Moditen and put me on Haldol—2 x 2 mg.
After two or three months of combining Haldol and Zeldox, everything was scrapped because the hallucinations wouldn't stop, so they prescribed Serdolect—which gave me heart palpitations.
We then reverted to Zeldox and Moditen. A few months later, the doctor decided to drop the Moditen because it was too heavy and warned it would cause eye twitching.

Since then, I have been on Zeldox monotherapy. I went from 2 x 80 mg down to 1 x 80 mg, then to 1 x 60 mg, and finally, for six months, 1 x 20 mg. That was the lowest dose.

I haven't taken any since about two months ago.

As for antidepressants, I took Faverin for two months, but it was discontinued because it wasn't helping. Then I took Zoloft for a month, which was also discontinued.

For anxiolytics, I used Xanax SR (extended release) at 1 mg, plus Ativan 0.5 mg.

I also used Prazin—2 x 50 mg—to help with sleep.

Basically, now I only take the lighter ones: Xanax, Prazin, Ativan in the evening, and Diazepam as needed.

Man, that is quite a laundry list of psych meds, you have to admit. But seeing that you're down to the lighter stuff now... it looks like things are actually heading in the right direction.🙂

Richard White8 said:I feel for you. It’s a tough spot to be in. Are you currently on any antipsychotics? My experience was actually the exact opposite. During my psychotic episodes, I became incredibly talkative—almost dangerously so. I would strike up conversations with complete strangers, like approaching tourists out of nowhere and even inviting them back to my place. I never would have done that before this started. However, my schizophrenia hasn't been one-note. There were stretches where I lived in total isolation for two years. I wouldn't see anyone. My schedule was completely flipped; I’d sleep until 8:00 PM, head out for a coffee at 10:00 PM, and then go to bed at 10:00 AM. During those times, I was constantly alone with the voices. The only person I spoke to was my grandmother over the phone. Then, I’d hit a phase of intense sociability, where I'd approach people in bars or clubs just like I mentioned before—I even made a friend that way. Before getting sick, I was never that outgoing with strangers.

Once I started on high doses of antipsychotics, my drive to talk or engage with anyone just vanished. As the dosage was gradually tapered down, my ability to hold a conversation steadily returned.
A friend of mine has been diagnosed with psychosis and is on massive doses of antipsychotics. It’s made him incredibly quiet. Extremely quiet. We hang out often because I genuinely enjoy his company, but we don't really talk. Most of our time is spent just sitting there in silence, drinking coffee and smoking. I find myself constantly searching for something—anything—to ask him just to get a reaction, and then he’ll give me an answer. On a typical two-hour coffee run, we might actually converse for maybe twenty minutes; the rest of the time is just silence and chain-smoking.

I’ve become so accustomed to quiet coffee dates that sitting through a two-hour conversation feels exhausting now. It's especially draining because my way of communicating has shifted. I no longer fight for every word or feel the need to prove a point just to win an argument. I've become more passive; I simply let others take the lead in the conversation.

Those are all just symptoms of the illness. Personally, I have no regrets about taking those antipsychotics. Even though they left me feeling a bit sluggish, they successfully addressed my primary issues: the hallucinations and delusions.

Are you staying consistent with your medication? I seem to recall you mentioning a while back that you weren't interested in taking anything. Is that really a wise move? For me, the treatment has been effective. I have a friend who stays completely stable on his regimen; he’s actually making great progress with his PhD right now. Without those meds, he wouldn't be able to function or hold down a job at all. Even with them, he's had to deal with five or six hospitalizations, but without the medication, it would be an absolute disaster.

Beyond just medication, you really ought to look into psychotherapy. I'm not entirely sure which specific school of thought would suit your situation best, but it's worth exploring. The biggest downside is having to shell out for private practitioners.

I don't take medication regularly—at least not consistently. Sometimes I'll take them for a couple of days if things get really bad, and sometimes I don't even do that. I'm thinking about the meds... I'll see how it goes. My main struggle is this sense of numbness and passivity, and the pills often just add to that feeling. I'm planning to sign up for an appointment today, and I'll try to speak up about it if I can... though it'll be hard. I'll probably just stare blankly into the distance... trying to look okay and normal... haha... if it's a better day, maybe things will be different and I'll actually talk, and everything will improve.

I went to psychotherapy a few years ago, and my psychiatrist concluded it was useless and unnecessary for me because my thought processes are normal; it's just my personality.

Rebecca Rivera3 said:I don't take medication regularly—at least not consistently. Sometimes I'll take them for a couple of days if things get really bad, and sometimes I don't even do that. I'm thinking about the meds... I'll see how it goes. My main struggle is this sense of numbness and passivity, and the pills often just add to that feeling. I'm planning to sign up for an appointment today, and I'll try to speak up about it if I can... though it'll be hard. I'll probably just stare blankly into the distance... trying to look okay and normal... haha... if it's a better day, maybe things will be different and I'll actually talk, and everything will improve.

I went to psychotherapy a few years ago, and my psychiatrist concluded it was useless and unnecessary for me because my thought processes are normal; it's just my personality.

At least you have the drive. You're actually thinking about making things better and taking steps for yourself, and honestly, that's a huge win. 👍