My name is Roberta and I am 25 years old. I have schizophrenia and I am coping with it very well. I have been taking my medication for a year now and I have been functioning normally. A few years ago, I felt my whole world was falling apart. I had just remembered that my father went to prison when i was two years old. I had hallucinations and thought that people were out to get me. I also struggled with voices from my past. However I am living a full life and I am coping well. I always wondered what it was like to live with schizophrenia and when i was diagnosed I did not want to accept it, but the medication made all my symptoms go away. I look forward to living my life.
Archive for the ‘Recovery’ Category
I am a 30 year old female and I live with schizophrenia. It started when I was 15. In high school, the school work was hard and pressures to go to a good college was high. I started to hear people talking to me. At first it was occasional but it quickly started to hear them all the time.
During classses the voices would talk to me and they would even tell me the answers on the test. I tried to get rid of them but they would not go away. I wanted to tell my mom but telling someone you hear voices is hard.
After a while the school told my mom to bring me to a docotr. I went to see the doctor and he put me in the hospital that day. I went on medication and gained over 100lbs. I no longer had any friends and did not take care of myself.
I hated being on medication because of the side effects. Now I have been on medication for over 15 years. I have alot of health problems but I am trying to deal with them. My personality is alot different than it used to be but I like it. I do not have any need for friends and I hate loud noise and flashing lights. I still here voices everyday but I learned to ignore them. Sometimes I do not know if somebody is talking to me because most of the time they are not. I love to be alone and my doctor says that’s bad.
I usually like to stay at home. Now I force myself to go out for at least two hours a day. Life is hard but sometimes I think I am better off than others becuase so many things that bother them do not bother me.
I grew up in a normal family, and I was a bright kid—I.Q. of 140, a straight “A” student. But while I was in college, my concentration began to disappear. I began to hear voices telling me that I was nobody, that I was never going to make it in life. My grades dropped from A’s to C’s. In 1977, I was hospitalized for schizophrenia. I was given electroconvulsive therapy, huge amounts of medication—the whole nine yards. The voices stopped temporarily then, but they weren’t gone for good. After my hospitalization, I tried to find a job and make it on my own. But I couldn’t take it. The voices would be just terrifying. Eventually I moved back in with my mother, and soon after, was sent to another hospital in Jacksonville, Fl.
I was in and out of the hospital and day treatment for a while, as the voices came and went. Sometimes I felt so good that I was in denial about my illness… until symptoms returned. I was so tired of treatment at that point, tired of the stigma I felt from my own mother and even my psychiatrist. He’d told her I’d be disabled for the rest of my life, and she believed it—neither of them thought that a person with a mental illness like schizophrenia could recover.
I couldn’t stand the stigma, so I moved out. My plan was to find a job, but I ended up homeless on the streets in Florida. I had no food, no medicine, and a job working a concession stand. For a while, I was living in someone’s garage, and in exchange for the living space, I had to do all kinds of work. When my symptoms became more severe, I was taken to a crisis unit.
This is where my story turns around. For the first time in my life, I was connected with a social worker who helped me get case management, Social Security, clothes, food, and shelter in an assisted living facility. My insecurities about living alone started to go away, and I felt motivated. This was the beginning of my recovery.
I was prescribed newer, more effective medicines, and a drug called Respidol finally made the voices disappear for good. I was able to live on my own in a regular apartment for the first time. I learned basic coping skills from my case managers and friends, as well as from consumer advocates who had experience in the mental health system. They taught me how to advocate for myself. Their help was so important in my recovery process, it made me want to give something back. I started telling my own story to consumers. Amazingly, I found that doing this not only inspired others, but helped my own recovery. The momentum kept building, like an upward spiral.
After 20 years, I finally went back to college. There were case managers who doubted me, who said I shouldn’t apply for student loans because I might not be able to get the necessary grades. But in the 1990s, I got my bachelor’s and subsequent master’s degree in social work and consistently achieved straight A’s. At this point I was completely independent. I was off Social Security, off Medicare and Medicaid, off subsidized housing. I now own a condo through a rent-to-own program I created, and that’s where I live… with my wife. Did I forget to mention I got married?
Now, I’m the coordinator for the Office of Consumer Affairs in Florida, an office funded by the Florida Department of Children and Families. I supervise peer specialists who are sharing their stories the way I shared mine. When my organization conducts focus groups with consumers, they usually say that it’s a little bit of everything that helped them the most. Not just medicine, not just therapy, not just financial stability, etc. It’s all important to work on, and it’s different for every consumer. Recovery is an individual thing. No one can tell you how to do it—the important thing is to know you can. You have the power and ability to make recovery a reality.
William McDaniels
I thought my life was just beginning. I’d finished college a few years earlier, and was working on a research project. Then, symptoms started appearing, and my life came to a standstill. I had to be reminded what to do when I woke up… to brush my teeth, to wash up. The man I was living with at the time started staying home with me, and we both sought help through his employee assistance provider. The psychologist there suggested I go to one of the area hospitals. This was my first of about six psychiatric hospitalizations.
My diagnosis was schizophrenia. After the hospitalization, I continued with therapy and medication. I continued trying to work, but I couldn’t keep a job very long. I tried clerical work, proofreading, waitressing. I even tried substitute teaching (I had gotten a teaching degree as “something to fall back on”) but my illness caused me to treat the students inappropriately.
One of my psychiatrists suggested I try to get a civil service job. At first I was reluctant, because I thought I’d be working with people like me. Eventually, I started working with people with mental retardation. There was a provision in the job that allowed me to take off 12 weeks if I worked 1250 hours. That leave helped considerably, and I kept that job for about 11 years.
I had a very bad day treatment experience in 1998. At the day treatment program in New York, someone committed suicide. I had to leave after that, and I went home to Florida, thinking my life was over. I was cut off from my medication, and I constantly thought about death and dying.
A psychiatric assessment center helped me find a source of medication again. The center also ran a day treatment program. Despite my doubts after my last day treatment, I ended up going there. And even to this day I miss it. It was the best.
This program was great because it was long-term (I stayed from July 1998 to February 1999) and because the people were really caring. I had a car and could drive myself, but the occupational therapist always said to me, “We’ll pick you up.” This was so helpful because I had to be up, showered, and ready for the car at 8:30. It got me out of bed.
The day program was instrumental in me securing a volunteer position at a place that helps find housing for people with special needs, mental illness. I volunteered there for approximately four years. Now I work there part-time. I help people with mental illness find housing, and it’s something I want to do. It’s a far cry from the other jobs I’ve had. I never thought I’d be paid to talk on the phone!
In addition to my work, I volunteer for the Mental Health Association and facilitate a Schizophrenics Anonymous support group. I think being busy and having something to do is important. I still spend some time at home, but I try to get out every day.
When a person is ill, it’s important to have the support of family and friends. I stayed away from my family for 22 years thinking that if I came home, they’d lock me away in an asylum. But to my surprise, they were very supportive. Of course, some are less supportive than others. There are people who say “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just spoiled.” But there are always going to be people who don’t accept it. A mental illness isn’t like a physical handicap—you can’t see it.
Drop-in centers are very important places for consumers to go as an alternative to isolating themselves at home. Presently I attend and am active member at three drop-in-centers including 9 Muses Art Center, in Lauderhill, FL; REBELS Drop-in-Center in Hollywood, FL; and the Personal Empowerment Education and Recreation (PEER) Center in Oakland Park, FL. Before leaving New York to help in my recovery I also attended drop-in-centers there.
I used to think I was doomed. I used to talk about how I would prepare for my funeral. Looking back on that now, I feel marvelous. As long as there’s life, there’s hope.
Sandra E. Sears
It all started around March 2006 when I was attending McGill University in Montreal, majoring in electrical engineering. I was 19 years old at that time. A whole month prior to the onset I had done 5 Grams of magic mushrooms, and my 2 years relationship with a girl was starting to fall apart. a week before the onset, I learn that the girl I was dating was sleeping with someone else. Studies were starting to be unbearable as I was struggling between going to class and coping with the fact that my ex is enjoying her sex life with someone else.
A few days before the onset, I can clearly remember sitting for hours at this coffee shop that was just next to my ex’s place and hoping I would catch a glimpse at her going in to her appartment with her new boyfriend. I completely rejected any of my friends support since it wasn’t the first time this had happened and I had deliberately decided to dwell by myself to get over it this time.
The day the onset started : I was in my room, my friend called me and told me that I have been unusually isolating myself this past week. I still refused to see anyone. I played some very sad music and started writing a letter to my ex, but this time it was evident that I was starting to experience an altered state of consciousness. The letter ended up to be coherent according to my ex, but I wasn’t expecting it, as I have found trouble reading it. I drop it in her letter box.
The next day I cross into her in the library. I had to work for my upcoming midterm. I remember spending 5 hours on 3 lines I was starting to enjoy the visual halluscinations I was experiencing ( green colors). (Note that these hallucinations were somewhat differently experiencing then the later ones when I was in my recovery phase : although the colors were the same, in my pre-schizophrenic state I was deliberately forcing myself to have these hallucinations in the library, whereas in my schizophrenic state I was experiencing them out of the blue and had to work on ignoring them, maybe it had something to do with my consciousness in the first case and my unconsciousness in the second case ? ). My ex noticed that I was very bizarre.
There are other details and odd behavior as well but I won’t talk about them.
The onset lasted 2 days. At that time, I wasn’t aware that the state of mind I was experiencing was going to be a chronic one. I am thankful for that because I would have commited suicide. 2 months later I experienced my first and last psychotic relapse. During the first stages of my relapse, I was having delusions and one of them was that I was schizophrenic. Ironic. I thought at this time that it was what it is not, that is split personnality. I had this habit to google every delusion and as I was searching for schizophrenic I found out that its describtion was compatible with what I was experiencing, thus I automatically rejected it as it was not very amusing since I was seeking to distort my true identity. A few days later my dad took me to a psychiatrist and I told her I have schizophrenia, eventhough I also had delusions on the side and was purely psychotic. She was astonished by that.
A few weeks later I was in Lebanon, and I went to see a psychologist. He insisted that I stay in the country and continue my studies here since I can get family support. I started university barely beeing able to cope with my personal hygiene and going to class. I dropped a few classes but I was still able to hang on there. I made a few friends. My grades were weak but passing courses. This spring I finished my fourth semester in this university in computer science and the Spring semester was my first full-time student semester. I am proud of myself. I am currently taking a summer course and doing well. I have periods of distress but I am always confident that I won’t go downhill since I say to myself that I have been able to cope with previous ones everytime a new prodromal period comes up.
Everyday is a fight for me to go on in my life, there won’t be a day where I would live the life I had, but it is a good life now. I think recovery is not when u don’t have symptoms but when you are able to control your life and live a productive life, hence the dissapearance of symptoms will be a consequence of that, and not the other way around.
The key factors to my recovery were:
- Living by myself without any family caregiver
- Meeting friends and being in social situations
- Playing the guitar which contributed to 40% of my recovery
- Reading books
The key factors to my recovery were not:
- doing drugs or alcohol ( I smoked pot once after the onset and it was a very displeasurable experience and I wouldn’t advise to anyone, I drink from time to time a beer when I am in bars but I try to limit myself to 3 beers per week max)
- Living with my parents ( I think it is important to have your own space and learn to take care of yourself.
Someone who is there to tell you to take a shower or to do the dishes for you is not going to encourage me to do it by myself.
Schizophrenia is a disabling disorder but the person affected by it is well aware of the way they endeavor to live their lives.
To make myself clearer, it was helpful for me to live in the dirt in the begining in order for me to take care of my house and personal hygiene).
As for medication, I am currently on 0.5 mg of risperdal, but I am not a big fan of medication and I cannot contribute any of my recovery on them.
