Tag Archives: hallucinations

Think Twice Before You Lie to Someone with Schizophrenia

10 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in caregivers, mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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I just ate a piece of bread with hummus on it from a woman giving out samples in Costco. For some reason, the bread or the hummus tastes differently to me. Fear overcomes me. I begin to think the food may contain poison. I start looking for my husband who I left in the computer aisle. When I find my husband, I ask him to go to the woman and taste the food. He recognizes the fear and urgency in my voice so although he is not hungry and doesn’t like to sample foods, he goes to where she is standing and waits in line for a sample. He tastes it. “It is fine,” he tells me. “It tastes good.” This moment is critical, I will either be comforted by my husband’s words, or I will move into a full-blown panic. This time, it works, and I immediately begin to calm down.

The scenario I just typed is one example and one incident among hundreds that happen in one variation or another in our lives. I fear something. My husband tries to show me or tell me why the fear is irrational. He never tries to help me condescendingly. He does it factually, and straightforwardly.

This example of trust is why I titled this blog post, “Think Twice Before You Lie to Someone with Schizophrenia.” I know that it might seem easier sometimes to lie to someone who is paranoid or psychotic, but in the long run, and in my experience, it will damage how much you can help that person in the future.

I have built twenty years of trust with my husband. He is one of the few, if not the only, people who I believe all of the time. That isn’t to say that his honesty with me comforts me one hundred percent of the time, but it does about seventy-five percent of the time, and that is a lot. If we can prevent seventy-five out of one hundred panic attacks or episodes of extreme paranoia, I think that is pretty good. (The number may be higher, I don’t know. I just know it works more than it doesn’t).

I know that telling a lie to someone to get them to go into treatment if they are actively psychotic may be necessary, (and if it helps someone to get the help they need, I am all for it). But I would weigh those situations before deciding to be untruthful. The consequences of lying can last far into a person’s recovery and treatment.  Without someone who I trust, who knows how many times I would have struggled severely with hallucinations, delusions, paranoia and other symptoms. Having someone to trust can be as good as a potent medication at times when symptoms don’t have a strong grip on someone with schizophrenia.

A Setback: Looking at my Symptoms Honestly

26 Wednesday Oct 2016

Posted by in bipolar, schizophrenia, Uncategorized, writing

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I failed. I would like to say it is a small failure, but it is colossal. The worst part about it is I thought I could do it. I was excited to try. I had my hopes up that I would be successful. I was ready to put my illness on the back burner and rejoin the workforce.

I didn’t make it through orientation.

The first thing they made me do was to put my purse in a room because they didn’t want me to have it in the warehouse. I knew this was going to be a problem for me. My purse goes with me everywhere; I never lock it up, and I never let it out of my sight. I had two hundred dollars in my purse. I had my house keys and car keys. I had my medication. I had my social security number prominently displayed on my medical card. I had my driver’s license. And I had food; food, that they told me to bring for a snack. I can’t eat food that has been out of my possession because I am paranoid about contamination and poisoning. Food and food issues are one of my most frequent and persistent symptoms.

They took all of us new hires, about twenty of us, into a room. They gave us our identification cards and gave us a tour of the warehouse. While walking the warehouse I smelled all the laundry detergent soaps and other perfumed items. I am allergic to perfumed items, but that isn’t what hit me. I started getting paranoid and anxious about all those smells. Smell is a trigger for me regarding panic attacks and olfactory hallucinations. I was still worried about my snacks because I was starting to get hungry.

Back in the training room, we went over our login for work hours and a safety video. By this time my anxiety was so high and I was hungry, nervous, and paranoid. I told the man at the desk, “I’m sorry this isn’t the job for me.”

“Do you want me to walk you out?”  He asked.

“Yes, please,” I said.

He walked me to the warehouse exit, and I asked about my purse. He apologized and led me to the room where I had left my belongings. I went to my car, drove home and had to take an extra dose of medication and have my husband come home to try and get me back to a stable place.

I learned a few things today. The first is I am no longer young. Also, I don’t have the courage and energy and resiliency I had in my youth. My symptoms have gotten worse over the years (I may not be actively psychotic but what I can handle, accomplish and push myself to do is greatly reduced from ten years ago). I will try to make working at home a priority again because I believe it is all I can reasonably handle. Although I believe people with schizophrenia can do anything, I cannot do everything. I have more limits than I imagined. I am not giving up (I will try to find some form of work that I am well suited for that doesn’t require me to have an episode just by going to orientation). People will still hire me, and I may give in sometimes, but I am not a quitter.

Today was a setback, a failure of sorts, for all of us with schizophrenia trying to lead a normal life, but I still plan to find a way to be a good example of successful living while dealing with active symptoms. I know it can be done, and I believe I can do it. I may not be able to do traditional jobs, but I will find some meaningful way to use my time and talents.

I hope you had a more successful day and a better experience than I did, but if you didn’t, let’s agree together not to give up. Let’s keep trying. Failure is nothing to be afraid of, it is not trying that dries us up and kills our spirit. Our spirit is our life force, let’s keep fighting to keep it vital, active and alive.

The Media Handles This Tragic Story Well

09 Wednesday Mar 2016

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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Wow. Clearly this man (in the article linked below) was psychotic. The way the reporter covers his hallucinations and delusions are spot on for someone suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. The reporter never mentions schizophrenia, though – amazing! This article is the first one I have read where the reporter/writer shied away from giving a diagnosis as soon as a crime happens.

Trigger Warning on this article – it is a very accurate description of psychosis and made me feel a little muddy in the head reading it because of the memories it triggered.

You can read it here.

I have some questions about this man’s situation. How did he get a gun? (The article doesn’t say if he owned one, bought one, or has always been around them – this seems important). Also, he was having severe symptoms for two years (did I read that correctly?). No one noticed anything bizarre?  Why do people keep slipping through the cracks? What is happening?  What can we do to help people before a tragedy occurs?

This latest tragedy is terrible on so many levels. Once the young man has proper medication, it is likely that his psychosis will clear up, and he will  suffer from tremendous guilt and self-hatred for hurting someone. He will have to live with the actions he committed while psychotic. The other part of this tragedy is for all people with a mental illness; we all look dangerous which is rarely the case. Of course, someone was hurt, and that is always the worst part of any incident like this.

This story saddens me so deeply for everyone involved.  We need better treatment and laws. I simply don’t have all the answers for what the best treatment and better laws would be.

 

A Look At Schizophrenia

08 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by in hope, mental illness, schizophrenia

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I know that the unusual symptoms of schizophrenia – hallucinations, voices, and conspiracy theories, are what attract the most attention in the movies, articles, stories, etc. As a society we seem to be more attracted to what could be considered the bizarre or the unusual than the whole picture, or even truth of a situation (in this case an illness, or people’s lives).

I know that reading about the times I thought I was Jesus, or the times I thought that I was a healer, or the times I heard voices tell me to kill myself are far more interesting and sensational than my brother expecting me to contribute to Thanksgiving dinner, or my husband counting on me to help him figure out which insurance policy we should choose.

There are many things that my illness interferes with, but I don’t stop doing those things. I have a difficult time traveling, but I don’t give up on doing it – if I struggle, if I suffer, I still get through it the best I can and try to make the next trip better. If I have a panic attack from spending time out with people, I don’t stop seeing people – I hope for a better outcome the next time.

But the truth is most of what makes up my daily life is the mundane and the routine (it is highly likely that having a routine keeps my symptoms from being overwhelming). My day is not spent contemplating the likelihood of aliens, or who killed JFK, or thinking about being spied on tracked or recorded.

I get up every morning and make a pot of strong black coffee (I take it with 2% milk but as a treat, I occasionally buy half and half), after much thought the day before, I spend an hour or more writing my daily blog, and I make a spinach, banana, blueberry, and yogurt smoothie.

Because both of my parents are getting older, and I don’t see them frequently, I try to talk to them both every day (they are each divorced and married to other people). My parents don’t treat me in any particular way because of my mental illness. They expect me to participate in family functions, pay my part of bills we share together, remember their birthdays, and share their successes, illnesses, and details of living just like I share those details about my life with them.

In other words, my life is unremarkable, and those people close to me have expectations of me just like the people who are close to you have expectations of you. It is true, I can’t always meet those expectations, but generally with the everyday stuff, I usually do.

I know it isn’t exciting, fascinating, or even very interesting to tell you that my life looks very much life an average Americans, other than I don’t work right now (but like many Americans I am in school trying to update my skills in order to be more marketable in a field I can actually succeed at instead of one that is impossible for me to do).

One of my dear friends always tells me I have more in common with her than we have differences. This is just one of those days. I have nothing remarkable to report. I’m living my life, just like you, and there isn’t a single eventful or sensational thing happening.

All I can say is I bet I love the mundane more than you, then again, if you have kids, drama, or an occasional crisis, you may have fallen for the mundane too. Today, let’s be thankful for the mundane, and hope it blesses us through the holidays and into the New Year.

We can all be Superheroes

07 Tuesday Jul 2015

Posted by in heroes, mental illness

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At the museum my husband and I went to on Sunday, there was a girl who was about five years old, wearing a pink dress that flared out below the waist, making it fun for her to twirl around the open spaces. She walked past us several times as we were watching a video in one of the make-shift rooms. I kept my eye on her, because I didn’t see any adults around. A man with a name tag walked by and the little girl said, “My brother and I don’t know where our family is. We have lost our family.” I peeked around the corner and her brother was playing on a computer that was set up as part of the exhibit.  The man told the girl to follow him up to the front desk. I was going to follow both of them to make sure the girl and her brother were reunited with their relatives, but a woman came around the corner and started talking to the girl, she took her hand. The boy ignored them and continued to play on the computer. I felt a sense of relief.

On our way home we saw a three year old boy walking by himself through a crowd of people. My husband said, “Is that boy lost?”

I said, “Let’s watch him for a few minutes.” We stood in the park and watched the boy move farther and farther away.  Just before we were going to go after him, a woman pushing a stroller started to talk to him. It was clear he belonged with her.

We continued on our way home.

I thought about those two children, and how similar their situation is to someone who has had a break with reality. When I have been psychotic, I have been completely vulnerable, because when I am psychotic, I don’t know how to perceive people, or possible danger. I need someone to help me get to a safe place with safe people.

I have been fortunate that nothing bad has happened to me during the times that I was psychotic. People have stopped to help. Like a man who told me to get down from the hand rail of a pier that I was walking on; one slip and I would have fallen into a too shallow spot in the ocean. Then there was the man who pulled me from the bridge, and the other one who got me paramedics when I took all of my pills. There have probably been dozens of other ways that people helped keep me out of harm’s way as I walked for hours through the streets of Los Angeles, hallucinating.

Even though my credit card has been stolen five times in two years, in my life there have been more good people than bad people. We can all help make those odds true for everyone. I know the Bible quote, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” In a better world we are. Look out for the vulnerable, keep your eyes on them. If nothing else, ask them, “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

The goodness in our heart is needed all the time, wherever we go. Let’s wear it like a badge to present to people who are lost, or hurting or scared. We can all be superheroes to someone, ask me, I have seen at least three.

The Changing Symptoms of Schizophrenia

20 Saturday Jun 2015

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia

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Before my last big psychotic break, I was spontaneous. When I was dating my husband, I would drive from Tacoma to Los Angeles, or hop on a weekend flight to see him.  In 2006, my husband and I quit our jobs, sold our home, bought a van, and toured the country for six months. As a surprise, I once bought us tickets to Paris. I was always up for adventure. I was always up for a new experience.

So much has changed since then.

While my positive symptoms of schizophrenia (hallucinations and delusions) have decreased, my negative symptoms, the ones that have the most impact on a patient’s quality of life, have increased dramatically. (I know it sounds confusing to call anything about schizophrenia “positive” but that is the way doctors break the symptoms up.)  An article about positive and negative symptoms can be found here).

I am no longer spontaneous and I no longer have the desire to socialize. Both of these are considered “negative” symptoms that adversely affect a person with schizophrenia’s life. Don’t get me wrong, I have friends, and I love when I see them (a group of our friends are coming over tomorrow for brunch), but I can go weeks without talking to anyone face to face besides my husband. I know it isn’t healthy, but the actual drive or desire to socialize is gone. I have to remind myself, usually my husband reminds me, when we haven’t seen our friends, or gone out for a while. It has nothing to do with how I feel about people. I still love the same people, I still meet new people, and want them in my life, but there is nothing driving me to socialize like loneliness, or boredom, or a need to connect. No need for excitement, or a sense of adventure. Those things are what are missing.

No loneliness? No boredom? No need to connect? No need for excitement or adventure? I find these symptoms to be killing what was once a big part of my personality.

I really hope the symptoms don’t continue to take the spark out of me, and leave me as a person who is contained mostly in the mind, because I find the thought of living most of my life alone, in my unreliable, and at times terrifying mind, unthinkable.

A Dose of Psychosis

29 Friday May 2015

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia

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The first time I thought I was Jesus, I imagined people from all over the world coming to stand below our balcony in Hollywood, and clamoring to be near me. I imagined the rich and poor would all come to be healed from whatever ailed them. The voices I heard told me not to let the world know that I was Jesus or I would never be able to live a normal life. That’s what the voices said.

The voices.

Being psychotic and hearing voices is like living inside of a fantasy novel, one that changes from mystical to a thriller in an instant. Each piece of information you are exposed to becomes part of the story, so the story that only exists inside your head, takes its plot twists and turns from the real world around you. The delusions are complex, at times pleasing, and at other times, terrifying.

For instance, the second time I thought I was Jesus, which was a totally different delusion than the first time I thought I was Jesus, all of the information I would hear from the television would become a part of my delusions.

If there was a report about the war, then that became a part of the end of the world scenario I was having delusions about.

Someone was murdered? I wasn’t surprised, because the end times would be violent.

If there was news about the stock market crashing, I would attribute it to the new economy that was coming.

Connections were made instantaneously and the delusions kept growing ever more complicated and detailed.  The story, or in this case, delusions, grew organically from all that was actually happening around me.

During a psychotic episode the mind is able to create such elaborate and incredible delusions that even the most seasoned artists couldn’t portray the complexity in writing, painting, music, or sculpture all the twists and turns and incorporation of so much information that is the result of psychosis.

I once saw a therapist that said, “I envy you for going through something I have never gone through, for knowing something I may never know. You have experienced something incredible.”

I stopped talking to him at that moment, and never went to see him again. Envy is foolish under most circumstances, but to say you envy the person who has been psychotic is beyond foolish, it is to wish upon yourself a tortured mind.