I do remember one of the first times she started having these voices in her head. When I was about 6 years old she asked me to come to her because she thought someone had put a recorder in my ear.. crazy I know..

Another incident was when we went to visit my nana and grandad and she left me there because she was having another one of her episodes and noone knew where she was for about a week or two.

My moms voice in her head is named Linda.. kinda creepy i know.. but after awhile I just accepted it.. She went to the mental hospital so many times when I was growing up I can’t even tell you how many times its been. She would go into outbreaks of just bawling her eyes out and claiming that people on the tv or the neighbors next door were out to get her and i of course would have to fight her for the keys to the car so that way she wouldn’t kill herself or anyone else. She would think that people from our own family were teaming up with this voice in her head to “get” her.
She would always claim that something bad was going to happen or that “linda” was controlling all of our heads and making us into different people. It was so wild.. and during all of this madness I was trying to be a teenager with friends. But, I hid it all. I held in the pain and the hurt and put on a big smile when i went to school because i didn’t want anyone to know that there was something wrong. I was even a very popular girl in school. I was a cheerleader all throughout high school. I ran track my freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year. I was very good at it too. I had many many friends, but none of them knew the secret i held deep inside.
Everytime my friends would ask to come over I would lie and say that they couldn’t because my mom said no or that someone was visiting and they couldnt’ come over. My mom was always an emotional wreck. I would come home and she would be crying on the couch or yelling at her voice. I would escape by sitting in my room with the music loud and the tv up. I can honestly say it made me very depressed because all i wanted was a normal mother like everyone else had. I remember looking up into the stands wishing that my mom could come and be normal to watch me run or cheer. It broke my heart. I remember many nights just clinging to my pillow wishing that things would be different. I did get a boyfriend my sophomore year and i eventually told him, the first person, about my moms disorder. He was of course in shock because yes i looked like the type of girl who was “perfect”. But i wanted to seem that way to people because i didn’t want anyone to look at me differently or feel sorry for me.
Anyways, i remember on several occasions my mom telling me she hated me. However, i knew it was because of her voice.. but for some reason those 3 words hurt. I needed someone to love and care about me. I had a stepdad and my dad lived in dallas. My stepdad didn’t know he would be signing up for this. He really just wanted out and he mainly took it out on me. We never really talked.

As of now I am trying my best to get through college. And not but 3 months ago I got a call from my uncle saying that my mom tried to commit suicide by overdosing on her medication. My stepdads brother however had walked in just as the medication was all hitting her and he called for an ambulance. My stepdad was out of town and I was in another town for college. She did live but as of right now is still not doing well. She likes to call peopel all the time like almost 20 times a day for each person in my family. It gets on their nerves as well as mine because all she wants to talk about is her voice and of course none of us want to her about it or listen to the person she has become. I dont’ know what to do anymore. I feel like she is my responsibility. Noone is my family seems to want to deal with her or care about her, and my stepdad wants to get out of it. I feel since she is my mother that i should help her, but i don’t know how and i don’t think i am emotionally stable enought
to help. THe only thing that has been keeping me going is my friends. But thats it.

So if you have a mother, father, brother or sister that have this horrible disorder i feel your pain and your not the only one. I know how it feels and it hurts.. but you have to keep strong and don’t let that person get you down.. you have to surround yourself with happy people and other family members to get through it.

Sometime in the summer of 2005 I was getting very nervous or I had symptoms of anxiety. I had headache, very nervous, and sweaty and I can easily smell myself even though I just had a shower. One afternoon I went home from work, I thought I was having flu. One thing that I couldn’t understand was I was shaking very much. I was very nervous for no particular reason. I thought something bad is happening to my family back home.

Then finally I have this thought that people have been following me around every where I go, even my work they were there watching me. I didn’t know why: it was driving me crazy. I thought I was a subject of a study and these people following me were students and researchers of Mental illness and they are trying to humiliate me to put me to hospital because somehow they know me and all my personal emails were being hacked. They were humiliating me through broadcasting everything I say in the radio.
I thought I was a fish that they were trying to fish. Everytime I hear radio they sing to me and it’s all about me. Even articles in the newspaper have hidden meaning and the subject were about me. They were humiliating me to drive me crazy so that they can put me to the hospital.

Then I started having these ideas that some articles and comics stories in the newspaper have hidden meaning so that all people can’t understand it. They make fun of you in the radio or newspaper and they hide it. Newspapers are afraid to be racist so they hide it through their comic stories and words.
Everything I read started to have different meanings.

I stopped listening to radio and I stopped watching TV because I felt that everything they talk about is offensive. It was hard for me and making me very angry that people were talking about me and laughing at me and listening to me. I started becoming weak and very depressed. I started calling for God, I asked why are they doing these to me. I stayed in my room a lot.

Finally I moved back home to my parents house and my mom was so worry because of my crazy stories. She ended up calling for help. A social worker and a police officer picked me up in my house to put me to the hospital.

I was diagnosed with schizo-effective disorder. I was even more depressed when they told me I had mental illness. I didn’t believe it, instead I thought it was just a bad events in my life and God is trying to call me or some spiritual calling. I had some spiritual longing in my heart and due to the sickness it became distorted. I started hearing voices and hallucination: I thought I was special.
The voices were telling me what to do, even telling me some stories. I thought I was having telepathy because I can hear my friends’ voice while I’m locked up in the hospital. I didn’t know whose voices I was hearing I thought I was talking to ghosts. At night I was so afraid to sleep because I was afraid the devil will get me.

I’ve been in the hospital 5 times before I realized and accepted that I was really sick. I been in in few medication but because of side effects I didn’t take them properly. It took about 3 years before I’m back to myself again. I feel lucky because I stopped my medication and I am well now, I don’t hear voices anymore. All my paranoia is gone. I feel better now. It’s like a miracle.

Having mental illness have many stages:
First stage– not knowing you’re sick, getting the symptoms
Second– sickness getting worst so you ended up in the hospital for treatment
Third– getting diagnosed
Fourth– YOu don’t accept that you have mental illness because of stigma so you don’t want to get proper help so you have relapses or you get sicker
Fifth– Acceptance that you’re sick
Sixth– Getting theraphy and and taking your treatment seriously
Seventh– relapses because you stop taking your medication
Eigth– Being sick again
Nineth– some people have to stay in medication a lifetime to stay well, some get lucky and be well after few years of taking medication

When you mix this with a complete lack of women (another healthy element to any man’s life, in whatever capacity) and a complete lack of money, and an invented social heirarchy which meant that you really felt you were above the people in macdonalds although deep down you knew you werent, there is no doubt that it is completely understandable that my brother is schizophrenic, and completely confusing why i am not. So when i asked myself last night why i cower away from emotional reactions to things people have said to me, i know it is simple. Where i have learnt my life, good human values do not exist. This “blog” is not enough to do justice to the vast world of one person’s life, let alone two. But i hope in reading this that someone may find some hope or comfort in the fact that we are not alone down here in the depths of thought and distress and that there are so many paths back up to the surface, although some are booby trapped, and some are just bloody difficult.

Over the years I had began to identify certain aspects of my disorder. I learned to identify the sounds, and hallucinations I had. I never have been medicated nor do I want to be. I think that if I medicate myself I will lose a part of my own self control…even though it seems to me I am trying to control that which cannot be controlled. The sounds I hear are usually one word commands or short phrases, and most the time they are being screamed at me. At night, before I try to sleep, they tend to be worse. Usually I hear voices yelling, “NO!” or “STOP!” or I will hear someone yelling for me or a familiar voice it seems saying something to me but I never can make it out. When I try to sleep I hear this whispering sound, like a room full of people, sometimes seeming like 20-30 voices all whispering, and I can never make it out, other than a couple of words here and there. This makes it almost impossible for me to sleep, and sometimes I go days without sleeping. I am
currently advised to see a doctor because my blood pressure is so high because my body does not sleep. Not only that my appearance has changed from lack of sleep, my eyes always give me away.

I see things, but they are almost always quick and sudden. I see something in front me and when it registers in my head of what I saw, when I turn to look again, it’s gone. Sometimes I see things though that don’t go away so easily. I was once in Tampa, and I was at a party that I was dragged to and this neighborhood was backed next to a swamp. I had decided to take a walk out by the swamp just to get away from the people mainly because they were not the kind of people I wanted to even try to associate with. I was standing next to this small pond, it was dark, and very little light, but I could see pretty well. I stood looking at the water, and then I noticed a face in the water, looking at me. Then I noticed another one, and another one. Then about 10 or so faces were slowly rising out of the water and coming towards me. I was gripped with fear to be honest, and I do not fear many things. I began to notice these faces were not alive. They had frozen eyes staring at
me, and their faces were drawn tight. Their skin was decayed and I began to notice a smell in the air. They rose their heads only about half way out of the water and stared at me. I began to back away and then they went back under very slowly. I took a few moments to calm myself down and collect what I had seen. I later went home and realized I was hallucinating in a very bad way.

Many times I fight with a voice in my head that tells me stupid shit. I get this overwhelming urge to act on what is being thought or said and it’s like I am there for a ride that I can not control. Most the time this voice leads me in a right direction, but sometimes when I get to the point of no going back and that voice has lead me to look, or say, or do something completely fucking stupid, it’s like that voice just bails on me and I am left there confused and stunned trying to figure out a way to back out of what I did, or said. In this I am I think of myself as never truly alone…even though I am…no relationship has ever worked positive for me. My friends have bailed on me, or I have pushed them away. I am truly alone, but its like when I am sitting at home, in the dark, all alone…I feel a hand on my shoulder and sometimes if I look to see the person who is there, I get a quick glimpse of a familiar face that almost looks like me, but it’s not…the eyes are
different and the face is weathered…it’s not me, but I feel connected…then it’s gone.

This story is about my eldest son. He is No1 between 6 boys and 3 girls. He is 24 years of age. I blame myself for his sickness. I pushed him to the edge, I did not know what zchesophrenia is. I thought he is using drugs. He was very tense I was very opressive. He started showing strange signs, like always scilent, deep thinking, loud laughing for no reason.. Suddnly, unexpectedly our relation was 360 degreed changed. He jumped to me asking for help. He expressed his fear of some “others” who will do harm to him. I took him to a scychiatric who prescribed his condition.
I wanted to die because I feelt that I am part of his problem. Life is not joyfull anymore. Whenever I steal happy sometimes and remember him these sometime resprocate suddenly. Is he going to be as before? is he going to be unbalanced for good? Is this possable? My beloved cute son is fealthy with long nails and very long hair and beared.
it is very strange how life can be decieving and unpredictable. I am turning to the one who never sleep, The one who change things by verbal order ALLAH ALMIGHTY.

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

- SCHOOL LIFE
When I was 11 years old I left junior school and went to Kingshurst Comprehensive. I was the only person from my junior school to go to this comprehensive. This was the first stage in my isolation. While at the comprehensive I was never myself and acted the clown in class.

On top of this, when I was 11 or 12, my dad found out that my mother was seeing another man who she had met on holiday in Spain. They did not divorce but the atmosphere at home became more and more strained over time.

When I was 15 I went on a school trip to France and ended up going out with a girl called Karen. She was 13 and yet far more experienced than me. We had a great time but it did not last. On coming back to school I felt uncomfortable about going out with someone younger than myself.. A week after the French trip I went on a geography field trip in Wales. Almost by accident, I ended up going out with Catherine who I had liked for some time. On returning from the trip I ran into Karen who quite rightly gave me a hard time and made me feel really bad about myself. I carried on going with Catherine for a few weeks but things did not work out and I decided to call things off. I phoned up Karen and told her about it. I hoped we could get together but she did not want to know.

Over the next year I became more and more depressed but still managed to get good marks in my exams.

- SIXTH FORM
When I left Kingshurst Comprehensive, I realised that I was in no fit state to cope on my own. I chose to attend Solihull Sixth Form College to continue my education. Only two others from my comprehensive went there and I did not really get on with them. I did not last very long and I soon changed establishments. I chose to go to Archbishop Grimshaw School where a few of my friends had gone. Unfortunately, I did not fit in. I think I had changed and had become less friendly.

While at Archbishop Grimshaw I took my first overdose but nobody knew about it. When I went to the doctor’s I just said I had food poisoning.

After one year at Archbishop Grimshaw I quit and went back to Solihull Sixth Form College. Again, I did not fit in and I continually changed classes. In History I met Elizabeth who I really liked. I think she liked me as well but I never had the guts to ask her out. Eventually I gave her a note and she smiled. She left the room and when I saw her downstairs in the common room I ignored her and I didn’t know what to say. This put her off.

The first year at Solihull Sixth Form College past by and the summer holidays arrived. I spent the time alone at home feeling isolated. I had a big argument with my mother and hit her across the face. At this time, either just before or just after this incident I took my second overdose.

While still on holiday I went into Solihull looking for Elizabeth. The first pub I went into was the Saddler’s Arms and she was there with her boyfriend. On seeing me she got up and left. I was in a bad state at this time. Soon after this, I returned to college and handed Elizabeth another note asking her out. She laughed and said no. I lost my temper and poured a cup of tea over her head and we both started shouting at each other. I then left the building. When I returned I was told that I had been expelled. The following day I handed in all my books. On leaving I saw Elizabeth in the common room but didn’t say anything. I returned shortly afterwards but she had gone. A few days later t took my third overdose.

- EARLY ADULT LIFE
For the following four years I was unemployed. I lived at home with my dad. My mother left home and moved in with Sam in a flat in Kingshurst.

In some ways this was all a relief to me. A lot of the pressure had been lifted. I had failed but life goes on. I was quite lethargic. I did very little apart from reading and writing poetry.

When I was 22 years old I got a job as a clerical assistant at British Telecom and bought my first car, a red Ford Fiesta. I stayed there for about 18 months before I gave it up to work for my brother. He ran an advertising agency that promoted premium telephone lines. He also had his own premium rate telephone business which was promoted by the agency.

During this time I spent a lot of time in Solihull town centre hoping to meet someone. The first girl I fell for was called Bonita. I gave her a red rose and then ran away. I did not know what to say to her. I saw her quite often but never spoke to her. I was churning up inside. I spoke to a couple of her friends and they let slip that Bonita worked at a local newsagent. I eventually found out which newsagent this was and paid Bonita a visit. She was not very happy. I left her a poem but this only freaked her out more. Things got worse. I was looking for work and entered an employment agency in Shirley. Bonita was on the reception. I thought it was destiny but she told the staff about me and I was made to feel a little unwelcome. As time went by, I would post letters through the letterbox at the employment agency addressed to Bonita. I felt so isolated and she was the only hope I had or so it seemed. I had to hold onto something.

- MIDDLE TWENTIES
Eventually, I realised that Bonita was not for me and my attention turned to two other girls. Emma and Claire. I wrote Claire a poem and presented Emma with some red roses. Things slowly got out of hand. I spoke to Claire a few times to ask her out but she said she had a boyfriend. I gave her a book about Frida Kahlo, my favourite artist, but the paintings shocked her and she told her parents who reported me to the police. I was also shocked when the police stopped me, I had the shakes. Soon my reputation spread and some local lads started following me and giving me abuse. At this stage, I took my fourth overdose, my first for over 8 years. Claire knew these local lads and every weekend I would go into Solihull town centre and get abused and then Claire would show up. I was convinced that she like me and that if I only had the courage to talk to her I could sort things out, but I never did. I was on a roller-coaster ride of emotions. At times I gave up on her and tried to go out with Emma but she found out about how I treated Bonita and did not want anything to do with me.

While all this was going on I was still working for my brother apart from a 6 month period when I was sacked after an argument. On returning I got involved in setting up some businesses for the company overseas. I spent time in Portugal and then later on in Cyprus. Eventually, my brother decided to sell his business in Cyprus and I was offered a job over there to help run the business and try to set up operations in the Middle East. I arranged a flat in Limassol and flew over to start my new adventure. I was nearly 29. This was my dream job. I was still hoping to sort things out with either Emma or Claire. I was planning out my life hoping to marry the perfect girl and have a great job working abroad. However, I was deluding myself. Things were about to get much worse.

THE ILLNESS
- THE START
While in Cyprus working for Michael at Telemedia I had my 29th birthday. A couple of weeks later I returned to the UK for a week hoping to sort things out with Clare but I never saw her. I came back to Cyprus and fortunately arranged some interviews in the middle-east. As things happened, one guy I met was planning to set up his own business in the United Arab Emirates. I persuaded him that we would be ideal partners. On the telephone he suggested that he visit our operations in the UK and Cyprus. This was the crunch time! I could stay in Cyprus or return to the UK and hope that the UAE business would take off. Things were not going to well in Cyprus. I decided to leave and left the Cyprus operation in a mess and losing money. I hoped that my brother would re-form a partnership with Michael and run the business together in the UAE.

When I returned to the UK I had no job. I was waiting for the UAE business to start but I soon realised that this could take some time. On returning, I saw Clare in Solihull with a few boys. It was clear that she was not interested in me. One of my main reasons for returning was the hope of going out with Claire. Slowly my life was falling apart. My home in Monkspath was being rented out so I stayed with my mother and Sam at their flat in Kingshurst. I thought I would be there for a few months. As it turned out I was to stay there for 3 years.

While working for my brother and then for Michael in Cyprus I was on a good salary and could afford a house in Monkspath but now I could not get a job that paid more than 10k a year. I was still hoping the UAE business would take off. I started to do temporary work and then got a job as a media administrator at an advertising agency.

The start of my breakdown began here. I was working with an Indian girl called Nicky and I told her a little bit about Claire. I started to get paranoid. I thought that she knew Claire and that she was deliberately winding me up. I also thought that both Claire and Nicky had made contact with my mum and were planning a party for my 30th birthday in February. Things with Nicky became too much and I resigned after 8 weeks. I then flew to Cyprus for a holiday.

In January I was offered a temporary job at Apricot computers which I was told could lead to a permanent position. I thought Claire had arranged the job for me. While at Apricot computers I was invited to job interviews at BRMB and the Birmingham Evening Mail. I thought that Nicky had arranged these because she felt guilty about me losing my job. I was becoming delusional. I thought that the staff at Apricot computers knew about Claire and me and were planning a surprise birthday party for me at which I would meet Claire. I tried to top this idea and asked if I could fly to Cyprus for my 30th birthday.

I was hoping that they could arrange for Claire to come with me. I bought a bunch of red roses and took them to the airport and asked of they could be taken on the plane. The following day at Apricot computers I felt a tense atmosphere. I came to the conclusion that Claire knew someone at the airport and that by taking the roses there I had spoilt the surprise. I was in a panic. I thought that through my stupidity Claire would not urn up. That evening I returned to the airport and picked up the flowers. I took them to Brueton Park and threw them in the bushes. The following day was my 30th birthday. I still hoped that Claire would turn up but no joy. I arrived in Limassol and signed into the Mediterranean Beach Hotel. I still deluded myself. I convinced myself that Claire might be an air stewardess and had come over on another flight. I even imagined that she was staying in the bedroom next to mine. I visited Michael in Nicosia and asked him if he knew Claire. I was still trying to create my dream world, but that was all it was, a dream that was fast turning into a horrific nightmare.

- FIRST ADMISSION
I came back from Cyprus feeling depressed. My job at Apricot computers had finished and I had not been offered a full-time position. I thought that everyone was angry with me for messing up their plans for my 30th birthday party. I kept on going into Solihull hoping to meet Claire. The idea came into my head that she would re-arrange things for Easter and that maybe we could fly out to Cyprus to celebrate Easter there. The pressure on me was growing, everything was falling apart and I just could not accept it. I spent a couple of weeks on Parade Mailing and then I worked for my brother for a few weeks. Working for my brother was really stressful and I was starting to get messages from the newspapers and the radio. I thought that certain headlines were intended for me. I saw one article about Richard Branson which I thought was encouraging my original thinking and that I had the potential to be a great entrepreneur. I was starting to get illusions of grandeur. I thought that I was an important person and that secret operations took place at Birmingham Business Park which is where Apricot computers were located. I started to think that the government knew about me, that I had telepathic powers, and that I could transmit messages on TV and radio just by thinking thoughts. I imagined that scriptwriters could read my mind and would include my thoughts and ideas in their programmes.

On the Wednesday after the Grand National and US Masters I finally cracked. I spent all day in my car driving around in a crazy fashion. I thought that the number plates contained messages for me and that the colour of the car signified whether or not I was safe. I was also getting messages off the radio. I thought that Claire, Emma and Bonita were fighting for my attention by playing different songs on different radio stations. I thought that everyone was forming alliances either to help me or hinder me. I thought that Rupert Murdoch and Richard Branson were involved. I drove along the Stratford Road heading for London to see John Major or his representatives. I thought that MI5 and MI6 were onto me and following me around. I reached Henley-in-Arden feeling dizzy not knowing what to do. I drove near to a church just past Henley-in-Arden and stopped the car. I got out of the car and walked over to a green patch of land. I thought I would be safe there. I thought green colours could protect me. After a short time an RSPCA van came by and the woman in the van spoke to me. I was obviously looking distressed.

I don’t know what I said to her but she evidently decided to call the police in Stratford-upon- Avon. A police car arrived and took me away to the police station. I must have been there about one or two hours. I traded riddles and nursery rhymes with one of the pc’s. I thought his stories contained hidden messages but he was just playing for time until the doctor arrived. Someone assessed my condition, I had no idea he was a doctor, people came in and out. Then I was taken outside and led to an ambulance. I pleaded with them to let me go. I thought I was being taken hostage. I thought that the UK and US governments had done a deal with Iraq. I thought that this happened, that mental hospitals were filled with victims of psychological warfare and that if you broke enough rules you could be admitted. I had broken too many rules.

I was taken to Central Hospital to be assessed. I thought that I was a victim of psychological warfare. All knowledge of my importance and telepathic powers would be denied. Over time I began to realise that I was indeed ill. I still held onto some of my beliefs. I confided in my mother about Claire and asked her to visit her which she did. She was shocked. Claire told her about me. That she was not interested in me at all and that I followed here everywhere and that she had sold help white Suzuki jeep because of me.

I was in hospital for four weeks. When I left I was on anti-psychotics which were very strong and made me feel like a zombie. I went into Solihull in the hope of seeing Claire and confirming the story my mum had told me. I soon realised that a few people in Solihull knew about my illness. I thought that certain people were trying to send me messages. I went into the Raison D’Etre wine bar and Claire was there with here friends. At first she ignored me, then she spoke to her friends who passed a few remarks which were not very nice. Eventually I left. My life was in pieces, I thought it could not get any worse and yet things kept on deteriorating.

I started working at Parade Mailing again for two weeks then left to work for my brother but the drugs made this impossible so I stopped taking them. The UAE business was finally up and running and I went over there to help set things up. I did not feel too bad. I went over on two occasions. While back in the UK we got news that the business had been closed down due to the fact that an explicit love horoscope had been promoted on one of the telephone lines. This was catastrophic.

- SECOND ADMISSION
I was again out of work. I eventually got a job with an internet company but only lasted a few days. On the day I left my dad died. my mother and me found him lying in bed. I think the stress of this led to my second breakdown. This happened on the 19th December 1995. I again believed that Claire was going to meet me over Christmas. I got into such a state that I stayed out all night the day before my dad’s funeral in a very bad psychotic state. My mum eventually picked me up but I missed my dad’s funeral. I felt ashamed and thought that people would hate me. I still thought that I could sort things out with Clare. I thought that secret societies met in pubs to discuss business matters and industrial espionage.

The day after my dad’s funeral I was sectioned and taken to Solihull Hospital. I thought I was going to be killed. I stayed there four weeks and was then released.

- THIRD ADMISSION
Shortly after this, I went to Emma’s house and found out that she had lost all her hair. This was another shock. It seemed that not only was I suffering but those I cared about were hurting to. My 31st birthday arrived and passed, and then on the 21st February 1996 it would have been my dad’s birthday. A couple of days later I took my fifth overdose in my life. I was first taken to Heartlands Hospital and then transferred to Solihull hospital where I stayed as a voluntary patient for nearly 6 months. I had no energy, I was very lethargic, and stayed in bed nearly all the time I was there. I only had tuna and cucumber sandwiches for both lunch and dinner and occasionally went downstairs to buy myself some chocolate bars. Also at this time, my dad’s home was being emptied and redecorated so that it could be sold. The whole thing passed me by. I did not want to know about it. I could not deal with it. I could not cope with it. I just tried to ignore that fact that it was happening.

- FOUTH ADMISSION
My mother wanted to move to Cyprus and also thought it important that I find accommodation of my own. Up until now, I was still living with her and Sam. I t was arranged with the local council that if I could sell my house in Monkspath I would be offered council accommodation. In time I agreed the sale of my house. I was discharged from hospital and returned to my mum’s until all the paperwork was sorted. I would stay there another 9 months. The house was finally sold in December 1996. In January I was offered a council flat in Chelmsley Wood in a tower block. I turned it down. My mum wrote a letter to the council supported by my consultant suggesting that the accommodation was not suitable. I was offered a second flat in Kingshurst which I accepted. I agreed to move into the flat in April. The stress levels were growing again. This was my worst nightmare. To live in a council flat for the rest of my life, growing old and living alone. I started to get delusional again. I thought that the IRA had planted a bomb under my car. I also tried to prove my telepathic powers. I was determined to watch the Grand National and control the race but it was cancelled due to a bomb scare. I booked my self into The Moat Hotel on Saturday Night feeling very delusional and acting in a bizarre fashion. On the Sunday I drove to Stratford and onward to a Glider Club near Evesham. I told the members there that I thought there was a bomb under my car. They called the police who took me to Evesham police station. They called my mother who took me to Solihull Hospital where I was sectioned. I stayed there two months and was then discharged but I soon stopped taking my medication and quickly became psychotic. I started betting on golf and tennis matches believing I could control the results. When I lost I believed that there were stronger forces working against me. I thought that the Chinese government had dropped a nerve gas over the country and that I was responsible for the death of thousands of people. I thought that people were after me and were trying to trap me. I ran into the back of a red car which I thought was trying to slow me down and was part of the conspiracy. I returned home and took about 8 tablets of olanzapine. I phoned my mum and told her I felt tired. I was taken to Solihull Hospital overnight to be assessed for a potential overdose. I discharged myself the day after but I was still ill.

- FIFTH ADMISSION
In December, I locked myself out of my flat and became psychotic. I walked into Chelmsley Wood police station and asked them to take me to a place of safety, possibly to the church near Solihull town centre. I was locked in a cell overnight. In the morning I was seen by my consultant and later on taken to Solihull hospital by a social worker where I was sectioned again. I was there for 3 months. Over the Christmas period, I was allowed out to go to my brother’s. While I was out I paid three visits to Claire’s home asking her parents to help me. I thought that Clare’s dad wad high up in the business world and could help me. Eventually he and his son Glenn lost their temper. Glenn threw a couple of punches and I knelt on the ground in submission. I think that finally broke the cycle. I had pushed things as far as they could go. I had few illusions left. I started to realise that the only way I could remain stable was to take my medication regularly.

CONCLUSION
I was discharged in March 1998 and I have taken olanzapine on a regular basis ever since. I am now stable and have not been in hospital since. My confidence is slowly building. I have undertaken a few college courses and put together some basic internet sites which help me pass the time. I watch soap operas such as Neighbours and Eastenders, lots of sport, and I listen to radio 5 a lot with its coverage of news and sport.

My next objective is to try and find employment. I have tried a work placement but only lasted a week. My confidence is still a little fragile it seems. Not having a social life and only having one friend can make you feel very unusual. It is difficult relating to other people. The simple routine of working is hard to cope with. The stress levels rise and if you don’t have a social life then you cannot relieve the stress and it grows and grows.

I hope in time I can come to terms with this. I have accepted a lot of things which before I could not deal with. I thought that if I never marry then life would not be worth living. I still hope that I will meet someone special but only time will tell.

FINAL MESSAGE
Where there is life there is hope.