A prolonged, non-drug induced and horrific psychosis

To the ones who don't believe that mental illness is real, I say this: have you ever had to suffer a pervasive, prolonged and non-drug induced "bad trip?" In fact, I never do drugs, yet this evening, I felt as if I were having a bad acid trip, mixed with a heroin overdose. None of these things would be possible were it not for schizophrenia, the dreaded disease of the brain that affects nearly 1 per cent of the population worldwide on any given day. To make matters worse, I was solely responsible for the well being of two sons, one 7 years old and one 3 years of age. There is nothing more humbling than that of having to care for a child while under the mental illness knife, that cuts deeper than a scalpel in an operating room. To the voices, I say, leave this old hat alone- he has weathered enough storms. To the paranoia, I plead, let the peace of mind wash away your caustic inky blackness. And to the delusions and over-stimulation, well, let's not add insult to injury. Wellness begins at home. It takes time. This too shall pass.

A Reblog from Americamanifesto

americanifesto in Kuta Lombok I went to town to look around and took in many things: I saw one cow – don’t ask me how – and one bird with brown wings. It sang a song both loud and strong to flee its cage it sought, wreathed in a cloud of burning trash – sad things mankind has wrought. The ride this morn was swift and fleet we slept perhaps three winks, in captain’s berth we sampled mirth, the ferry did not sink. Now through this cabin we explored while sleep into our brain-pans bored, we looked in cubby; cranny; nook; as wave and sea the vessel shook. There was the book by Chairman Mao – his lesson, guide, and rule – three fancy shirts, a dead cockroach, some bits of foam, a toilet brush, the AC vented cool. Then through the hills and sopping fields our caravan did wander, in search of places rich in surf from here to there and yonder. We quarter in a spartan room, the basics they are present, my company is quick to laugh – indeed she is quite pleasant. The waters glint with pla stic junk, so much it can’t be counted; now off to rest, to try this bed, with consciousness dismounted.

When everyone else goes to bed each night, I lament the days' wasted truths--that all I get to celebrate is being a pauper (albiet with a beautiful family) and someone who suffers with major mental illness. Schizophrenia is not a joke. There are some good times, yes--but moreover there are struggles and disappointments that go along with it, each and every day. That is why I am a Trustee of the local NAMI chapter--so that I can help others the way people have helped me through some deep, dark times in my life. Although there'll never be a cure, each day, I look forward to my medication management as well as my coping strategies and support system to help me get better. X

On hearing voices while at Elementary School to pick up my son

The paranoia had returned, and it had brought with it overstimulation. I was at the elementary school of my son, who was in second grade, my three year old younger brother and son in tow. It had come onto me on the ride to the school, and I had attempted to stave off the symptoms with a bit of seroquel in the car as well. It was the worst 15 minutes of my day, to be sure, waiting for Tyler to come from Art Club and sign him out. The art teacher, usually not talkative after the club let out, decided to ask me about my younger son today. I answered curtly that he was my youngest, as any schizophrenic who just wanted out would do. The time had come to go home, and I knew a ride from hell awaited me. No matter, soon I would be home, in the confines of my safe house, I could rest up and let the demons pass. -Everything2show4

NAMI Blog Repost

Kristen's Story It's hard to believe that 2013 is almost over. For me, 2013 was an awesome year: I finished college, I applied to start graduate school, I returned to full time employment, I got engaged, I turned 30, and, well, I'm alive. I really never thought I'd be able to say that: I'm thirty and I'm alive. For most people this isn't a big deal. For me, it's groundbreaking. My mother has always told me that "fear is a powerful motivator." She's right. However, I've also learned that hope is a powerful motivator. And, while I have a wonderful support system, hope came for me in the form of NAMI NJ. We often hear how NAMI NJ can save families and how it helps parents and their ill children (or vice versa) and gives them a way to open a much-needed (and very, very hard) dialogue. For me, it was a little different. I became ill young. Elementary school young. My parents, being the proactive, supportive parents they are, sought the best of care for me. Suicidal at eight, cutting myself by twelve, by the time I hit high school I was already diagnosed with major depression. As I got older, major depression became bipolar II. As I got even older, I was finally diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. However, I was lucky. My parents, not wanting to limit me, never told me I was "sick" or "disabled." This is not to say that I did not know why I went to the psychiatrist every week or why I took medicine every day, it is simply that my parents refused to tell me that there were things of which I was not capable because I lived with mental illness. They treated me, and pushed me, as if I were any other child-as if I were "normal." How NAMI Has Helped When I came to NAMI NJ I already knew about, and, for the most part, accepted, my illness. I knew that I'd be on a cocktail of meds and in therapy the rest of my life. The problem was: I was unsure of how long that life would be. I had been early decision at Columbia University. I had been a supervisor in a distribution center with a sizable staff under me. I was no longer any of these things. By 27 I was divorced and on Social Security Disability. I had even begun to say that I was "disabled." I had already learned to start to doubt my experiences-what I heard, what I felt, what I perceived. I had also, however, begun to doubt my existence and whether I mattered. As I sat at home on the couch (I no longer left the house for work or school so I no longer left the house) my mother said to me, "Honey, I love you, but get off my couch. Go do something, anything." I had read about NAMI and so I sent an email to NAMI New Jersey (secretly hoping no one would answer). Lo and behold, my email was returned in a matter of hours. My simple email inquiring about volunteering opportunities was met with, basically, "Great! We're hosting our Kick-Off Luncheon this weekend. You can start tomorrow!" So, for the first time in I don't know how long, I ventured out of my house, totally alone, to meet some people I had never even spoken to on the phone, let alone seen in person, before. To say I was nervous is an understatement. I honestly don't know how I got out of the car or made it up the stairs. But I'm glad I did. What started out as helping put decorations on tables soon became helping plan the NAMI New Jersey Walk since it is held in my home county. This led to my not only joining my local affiliate but to today being on the its board, leading the NAMI Connection group, and being an In Our Own Voice presenter. This also, coincidentally, led to an internship in the state office. I started slowly at ten hours a week. I'm now in the office forty hours a week as a full-time employee. And, believe it or not, I love going to work-which I never thought I'd be able to say again. As I said, NAMI NJ has given me hope. I had never before met anyone else, outside of the hospital, who had mental illness. I had never met anyone else with scars on her wrists and arms or who could tell me that he heard things too. I learned that while I may be different, it's who I am as a person, and not my diagnosis, that makes me unique. And, most importantly, I learned that I really could have a future-with a family and a job and plans. I learned that I no longer wanted to die. While I'm still motivated by fear-I take my daily meds and go to my weekly therapy because I am scared to go through another psychotic break-I'm more motivated by hope. And NAMI.

Seen some research and DSM-5

Genome studies currently as well as DSM-5 and TRoC discussions. 

At NAMI NJ Annual Conference

Greetings from the NAMI NJ Annual Confeence at the Crown Hotel in Monroe. 

Today is going to be a productive day of speakers, fighting stigma and advocacy. 

I'll post updates as they happen throughout the day.