Such is the nature of my experience with the disorder of schizophrenia, one day I am feeling at my lowest and the next two days, I'm back up and running on all cylinders.
I always remember what a wise man once said when I am going through a tough time. "This too shall pass."
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Losing it at the fair
So we packed the car up and had what I thought was going to be a good time at the County Fair last night. It was my wife, my son and I; along with my father and his girl friend. There were rides, plenty to eat (although we had eaten home-made quesadillas before we left), as well as activities for children of all ages.
All was going along well, until all of the stimuli at the fair began to take its toll on my psyche. From that point until we left, which was approximately 1.5 hours, I was actively psychotic and paranoid. At this point going forward, with all of the still-incoming stimuli, all of the people as well as the responsibility of a young child, I felt like a leper's leper.
If I did indeed have lepresy, which was known all thoughout the dark ages as a disease highly stigmatized, at least people would stay away from me. However, since I was in my own personal hell, unknown to the wandering throngs of people around you, the end result is feeling somewhat less than a leper, or as they say, a leper's leper.
Even those whom I call my extended family had no sensibility for the illness in which I was engulfed. My wife was my shoulder to lay my head on, though, coaxing me to smile through the pain that she could see on my face. When a stranger made a joke that normally would have been funny, I reacted as someone in the throws of mental illness, causing him to back off slowly and awkwardly, as if he had witnessed an alien disguised as a human being at the county fair.
My wife has always been my hero, always there to help me through. Not that she always understands my inner struggle, but that she will always be there for me to lend a hand when her partner is in need.
All was going along well, until all of the stimuli at the fair began to take its toll on my psyche. From that point until we left, which was approximately 1.5 hours, I was actively psychotic and paranoid. At this point going forward, with all of the still-incoming stimuli, all of the people as well as the responsibility of a young child, I felt like a leper's leper.
If I did indeed have lepresy, which was known all thoughout the dark ages as a disease highly stigmatized, at least people would stay away from me. However, since I was in my own personal hell, unknown to the wandering throngs of people around you, the end result is feeling somewhat less than a leper, or as they say, a leper's leper.
Even those whom I call my extended family had no sensibility for the illness in which I was engulfed. My wife was my shoulder to lay my head on, though, coaxing me to smile through the pain that she could see on my face. When a stranger made a joke that normally would have been funny, I reacted as someone in the throws of mental illness, causing him to back off slowly and awkwardly, as if he had witnessed an alien disguised as a human being at the county fair.
My wife has always been my hero, always there to help me through. Not that she always understands my inner struggle, but that she will always be there for me to lend a hand when her partner is in need.
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