A Rough Path Toward Recovery

Hello friends,
I would like to continue my story and hopefully offer some encouragement. Let's begin. After I came home from the hospital, I begin to battle with the social stigma of Schizophrenia very badly, not to mention, it was a living nightmare. I began to turn to drugs and alcohol as a form of self-medication. I constantly stayed high, just to make this unnatural world, seem ok. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I "thought" it was making me better. I began dating my wife at this time and I thank God that she stuck it out through all of this mess that I was in. I began drinking cough syrup and indulging in various "legal highs", which are not any safer than their illegal counterparts. Trust me. Eventually, my parents and sister found the empty bottles and poured them out in my intervention. I denied it of course, got angry and stormed out. That didn't stop the abuse. I began having more seizures, and I knew the next dangerous side effect would be death. One day I went through a typical ritual to prepare the drugs, and I settled in for a regular trip. By this point, I had asked my girlfriend to marry me, and we were supposed to have the wedding in a few weeks. That night, while the drug was kicking in, we went to put the deposit down on our first apartment. That's when it turned ugly. I went home and didn't feel very well, so I lied down for bed. The next thing I knew, I was in a full blown, drug induced psychosis. I was in the hospital for three days, and for a full 24 hours, I was in a comatose state. I had a delusion that the rapture was happening because I put the final piece of the puzzle together... which was me doing the drugs. I felt that I was vital to Jesus coming back. Slowly I came to the erroneous realization (thank God), that I was in hell. I thought the hospital was a hallucination, and I was waiting for the demons to drag me away. I remember crying out in the bed, saying, "Oh God, I'm so sorry! Please give me one more chance! I'll quit this stuff! I promise!". My fiancee came in and I fully expected her to end our relationship right there. (I figured if it wasn't a hallucination, I might as well do what I could to make things better.) Part of me believed she was real, and the other half... well, not so much.  Amazingly she stuck it out, and although the wedding was postponed, we still got married. Unfortunately for me though, it took about six weeks for the delusions to completely disappear. I finally realized I was alive! Oh man, it felt great! This was the moment I knew I had to change. I had to help myself, not destroy my life. I could see the path to recovery, but I knew there was some very hard work ahead of me. Until next time.
-Will

Is This My Destiny?

Hello, I want to continue my story in hopes of people finding encouragement and understanding for those struggling with schizophrenic disorders. I was first formally diagnosed during my first hospitalization. The hospital was a shock for me. At the time, I was not sure what I had... I just knew that I could not go on like this. I was living at home at the time and was very depressed. It was more than a simple melancholy feeling... I wanted to die. In fact, I remember telling my parents that if they didn't let me go to the hospital I would kill myself. My parents were not in favor of traditional medicine, and instead completely relied on their faith. Now don't get me wrong, I am a Christian, but I feel that medicine has it's place also. Long story short, I admitted myself into the psychiatric ward. I was hearing voices and would constantly see things in my peripheral vision. The hospital scared me. I felt out of place, but that was mainly because I didn't know what I was experiencing. I was terrified. I remember lying in my bed, thinking to myself, "is this my destiny?". Fortunately I responded well to the medication... at first. I was taking Invega and finally was able to socialize again. Then, out of the blue, I had a seizure. I hadn't had one in about five years. It was a long quest to find the medication that worked and didn't give me horrendous side effects. After the seizure, I was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit and was thankfully discharged from the Psychiatric Ward. When I came home, I was "greeted" by my family telling me it was all in my head, and I could just overcome by willing it away. For those of you who have a family member with mental illness. Please, please do not think this is the case. If we could "will it away", we would. The road ahead of me was long and arduous, but I began to obtain the will to survive.. and survive I would. Now don't think this is a sob story, but I want to show you what we go through before I tell the end of this journey. Keep keeping on friends.
-Will

Hello Everyone

Hello everybody, my name is Will. I have a few goals in this blog. I want to help lift the stigma of mental illness from society, and I want to provide help for those struggling. I want my first post to be a sort of introduction to myself and the illness, so here goes. I was 17 when I was first diagnosed with Schizophrenia, and later that was changed to Schizoaffective. They are both Schizophrenic disorders but with a couple variations. Schizophrenia is marked by disorganized thoughts, hallucinations of all five senses, and delusions or paranoia. That is a generalization though, as many sufferers only have to cope with a couple of those issues. I won't get into all of the details now, but Schizoaffective is practically Schizophrenia combined with Bipolar disorder. Could you imagine, for a second, looking at the world through warped glasses... an LSD trip gone bad, but it lasts right on and on. That's the best way I know to describe it. I was a troubled child, despite growing up in a loving home, with two, happily married parents. I constantly was looking for an escape. Reality was too hard. The older I got, the more I found out that my reality was not that of my family and friends. It was too difficult because I thought it was normal, when it clearly was not. I only realized this after many conversations with my cousins about my thought process. I joined the Army at 18 and was discharged after three short months for a past seizure disorder and "possible Bipolar with psychotic symptoms". As time went on, I chose to see a therapist, who after a few sessions, recommended me to the Mental Health Department. I felt destroyed... was I a freak? What was going on in my body? It was a strange time for me, but I'll save that story for next time. Thanks for reading and God bless you.
-Will