Tag Archives: empathy

Update, Code Blue, and Empathy in People with Schizophrenia

12 Sunday Nov 2017

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, hope, mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized

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Quick Note: About yesterday’s post and not getting the job. One of my closest friends said it could have easily have been ageism and not my diagnosis. She said she and her husband have both been passed over for jobs for being over 50. Either way, this is not good, but one (my age) I share with millions and millions of people while schizophrenia is less common and far more stigmatized. Anyway, I just wanted to make that update.

Today, was my day to get my blood work done. In a few days, I will find out if my cholesterol or sugar is too high and if the medication is damaging my liver. Those of you familiar with antipsychotics know all of the side effects. For the past six years or so, my sugar and cholesterol have been borderline – we will see how it goes this time. Anyway, I hate giving blood, because I hate doing anything that has to do with doctors. But none of this is what I wanted to write about today.

While we were in the hospital, there was a code blue. The loudspeakers (very loud) started blaring, “Adult. Code. Blue.” I immediately started to cry because I imagined somewhere in the hospital people were praying that their loved one would be resuscitated. I imagined the fear, pain, and suffering of people who may be one floor above me or even a few feet away.

I often read that people with schizophrenia have stifled emotions. When I am not psychotic, I do not have stifled emotions. I am empathetic to a fault. There are very few people whose pain I can not imagine or imagine their feelings. When someone I know suffers, I suffer along with them.

My whole life I have experienced hypersensitivity. When I was married to my first husband, I would occasionally cry myself to sleep at night, and he would ask, “Are you crying for the whole world again?”

I think it is probably common for many people with a mental illness to be sensitive to a fault. In my case, when I was younger I internalized everything and took most things personally, as I age, I do that less and less but rarely does a day go by that I don’t cry. I cry over the news. I cry over Facebook posts. I cry about disasters and wars happening in the world. I cry that people don’t have the healthcare that they need. I am a crier and a frequent crier at that.

There are times when I feel guilty for being sick and being the focus of all the attention in my house – like sucking all the air out of the room. But it doesn’t last for long because when I get my footing, I am a very caring person and won’t take advantage of anyone or let anyone feel like me being the center of attention is going to last forever or won’t be appreciated or reciprocated.

I just checked with my husband about this to make sure I am writing accurate information, and he agreed – I don’t take advantage of him and I am always very appreciative. I think these qualities make a huge difference in the caregiving experience and help our caregivers not burn out or feel under appreciated. I know people with schizophrenia are not always capable of saying thank you or showing their extreme gratitude, but my guess is when they get their footing, they will feel it. I don’t believe our emotions are stifled at all. I think we feel and feel deeply. Psychosis changes us, but if we are lucky, our medications will give us insight and insight can lead to a soft heart that is easily impacted by the world.

 

Having A Mental Illness But Thinking Of Others

11 Friday Dec 2015

Posted by in bipolar, hope, mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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I took three coats out of my closet last night. My husband is going to take them to the church where he volunteers to feed the homeless and low income. I feel good knowing that I am giving a gift, even if it is a small one, to someone else today.

It is good to get out of my own head. It is good to stop thinking about my own problems and think about others for a while. Having a disability is not a competition. It is not, “My life is harder than yours, or they have it worse than me.” The important thing to remember is that as humans we all struggle. It isn’t easy for any of us.

And although it isn’t a competition, when I think of the lives of others – people who have survived war and lost limbs, people who have survived a fire and are badly burned, people who have a terminal illness, people who have no shelter this winter, people who are hungry, people who are living in war torn areas, and the list goes on of ways that people are suffering- I think to myself, “I will take my struggles over theirs.”

There is an old story about a group of people throwing all their problems into the center of the room, and each person being required to pick up someone’s problems and make them their own. All of the people in the group chose their own problems instead of trying to live with someone else’s problems.

People look at us and don’t want our problems, and we in turn look at them, and don’t want theirs.

I think it is important especially for those of us with a mental illness, to consciously think of the struggles of others. It isn’t that I think we are all narcissists and thinking only of ourselves, but we can spend a whole lot of time looking for our symptoms to manifest – changes in sleep, weight loss, weight gain, changes in thought patterns, anxiety, depression, etc.

It is easy to get lost in ourselves and our illness. Insight into our illness is important, but I have found that when I am concentrating on someone else, I suffer from fewer symptoms. When I am focused inward, I notice every small change in my well-being. The truth is I am healthier and happier when I am not so self-focused.

Let’s all give ourselves a holiday gift this year – let’s give some coats or sweaters we don’t use to a homeless shelter, let’s buy a few toys for foster kids, let’s make soup for someone battling an illness, let’s call a friend who recently lost a pet, or a job. Let’s reach out and try to ease, if only slightly, the suffering of someone else.

The gift you receive in return may be a little less of your own suffering. We are important to one another – everyone benefits from generosity, empathy, compassion and care. I think if we focus on others for a short time every day, we can make life better – that is such important work – the most important because it is love and we all know that love can get into the cracks and heal most wounds. Let’s be the ointment others need. It’s good for us, it’s good for them.

To All The Kennys Everywhere

08 Tuesday Sep 2015

Posted by in mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia, writing

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Back in the nineteen-seventies when I was in grade school, kids with special needs usually went to a different school than children without special needs. When I was in fifth grade there was one boy, Kenny, in my class who was diagnosed as hyperactive. Kenny sat a seat or two behind me and would constantly kick the seat in front of him, drum on the desk, occasionally touch one of the other kids, and once in a while say something in the middle of class. All of the kids tried to avoid Kenny because we weren’t used to seeing kids with disabilities and Kenny was very disruptive.

One day the school psychologist called me out of my math class. “Do you know Kenny?” He asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“Kenny listens to you. I need you to help Kenny follow the rules and settle down in class.”

“Okay. I’ll try.” I said.

My heart sunk when I went back to class. If I befriended Kenny the other kids would make fun of me. I didn’t know what the adults expected me to do. I also wondered why Kenny picked me out of everyone in class to say he would listen to me.

After that day, when Kenny would kick the chair of the student in front of him, or start drumming loudly on his desk, I would say, “Stop it, Kenny.”

I tried to help without giving too much attention or kindness to Kenny. I didn’t want to be seen as someone who liked him, or wanted him as a friend.

Over forty years later, I am an adult woman with schizophrenia and every time someone posts about my diagnosis on one of my social media accounts many people unfriend me. I can only assume people don’t want to hang out or be seen with the woman with special needs.

If I could go back to fifth grade, I would pull up a chair beside Kenny and hold his hands to help him keep them still. I would talk to him, and eat lunch with him in the cafeteria. I would be a friend to him even if the other kids made fun of me (especially if the other kids made fun of me).

This schizophrenia has given me radical compassion and radical acceptance. I can’t be sorry for that. I just can’t. If there is someone uniquely-abled in your life, I encourage you to embrace them, because if you don’t, you may one day be filled with a sense of regret and a missed opportunity to love and that is always tragic and deeply painful.