Schizophrenia Diaries

You’d recognize something if you have already seen it before. You’d know the place and find some traces if you have been there at some point in time. No matter how hard you try to repress your memory of it, it will still come back to haunt you and it chooses its own time.

In 2001, I was in third year college when a doctor diagnozed me with schizoaffective disorder. My episode lasted for 2 months. I saw shadows moving around. I heard voices that nobody else can hear. And I saw snipers hiding behind coconut trees. Eventually, I jumped off into the waters at the city wharf and walked home barefoot on the concrete road, leaving my identity (wallet, driver’s license and school ID) behind me.

It seemed like it was a very long time ago. I have moved on with my life, getting myself as busy as I possibly could. And I successully got rid of medications for 6 years and function normally in the society.

But good people leave lasting impressions. They are the ones who give you inspiration and help you define your own life. Unfortunately for me, they can also become a curse. The people who helped me overcome my illness are the same people who can remind me of those dark and disturbing moments.

I have relapsed, my first in 7 years. But like what Carl G Jung said, I would like to see this episode as a process of reforming the psyche in a form of self healing.

When I was committed to Camarillo State Mental Hospital in California for yet another suicide attempt, after rotating in and out of both private and State hospitals, after many, many shock treatments, medications, and almost daily visits with the psychiatrist—all to no avail, I certainly felt hopeless and thought there was no life for me. Hence the suicide attempts.

I was committed with the diagnosis of schizophrenia, however that has never been confirmed, and I am more likely bipolar (although that has never been confirmed either). I do know that I had bouts of depression as a young child that got worse through my teenage and college years. My complete breakdown to a nonfunctioning state happened in my mid-20s.

While at the hospital I started to attend the Recovery, Inc. meetings that were held twice weekly, and I knew instantly that the common sense techniques that I would learn in that group would help me get well. It was a long, slow climb, but by attending the meetings, getting support from the other members of the group, and practicing what I was learning, I began to feel better and function better. Soon I was able to get a job, and my son came back to live with me.

I combated stigma as it came along. When I started my job I felt certain that I would never be able to do it because I was afraid that they would “see” my illness and fear. One member of the staff said, “Don’t be nervous. You’ll do fine.” It made me realize that they weren’t seeing my mental illness. They just saw someone nervous about doing a good job.

When I was asked to be interviewed for a newspaper story, I was excited to think that I could help other people know about Recovery, Inc. and the possibilities of getting well. I forgot that all my friends and colleagues would also see it. The response was amazing. I got calls from so many people that were either interested in Recovery, Inc. for themselves or a friend, or just to applaud me. There were a few that made snide remarks; I chose to ignore them. After all, if I was functioning at my highest level ever, then why should I be ashamed of it?

Since those early days I have made more attempts to break the stigma by telling coworkers and friends about my illness, and by speaking out in the mental health community. I know there are many places where stigma still exists, but we can keep fighting it a step at a time.

I’m proud to say that today I feel “well.” I still have periods of strong symptoms, but I have learned to manage them using my Recovery, Inc. techniques. And Recovery, Inc. has also taught me when I need to see a doctor for additional assistance.

Melinda Jung