Schizophrenia Diaries

Hi, my name is Shyanne Powell I was born on september, 29 1990, when I was growing up my mom, grandpa, and I had tooken care and helped my granmother who suffered from schitzophrenia and other problems that were physical, I remember waking up every night to remind her to take off her oxegyn before she started smoking her ciggeretts, then in augest 4, 2004 we laid her to rest I was 13 going on 14.

After, I had started the eighth grade alot of things started to change both me and my so called friends but of course the whole time i was growing up i had no real friends who cared but that year is what kicked started everything after my grandmothers death it seemed like and felt like things had changed over night my sucidle thoughts had become worse and I had become paranoid about everything then, there was a night i whould never forget, i had gone over to a so called friends house me and her where thinking about starting a band so we desided to have a sleep over so i went over and once my mom left she asked me if i wanted to get high i said yes of course only because i was peer pressured, that night i went to sleep and was raped, after that it was nothing but halusanations and paranoia.

when i had tured 15 years old i had been idmitted for the first time, i was in and out of hospitles for 3 or 4 years my exsperiances at those places brought me more harm than good all i got was my thoughts and dreams washed away by telling me i whould not make it to graduate high school and i was indangered to be homeless then finally my finnal time in a hospital to one that i had been to seven or more times they had finnaly found the medacine that worked and its name is “clozerail” and once released i was put in a group home but the real test was when i had started school my senier year i had missed my other three years so i was pretty excited although it wasnt a normal school with sports or what not but it was pretty cool with the art classes i got into it but what made me irratated was when my case worker and team was trying to stop me from graduating on time which i did not listen i kept working then my voc rehab specialist tryed to convince my school princabule to have me stop
school for the rest of the year so i could get funding and graduate late , my princable did not go for it she thought it was crule so i continued my work and graduated high school on time with my class,

class of 2009

I am diagnosed with schizophrenia. I`m going to try and explain my life since that event where I first started showing symptoms.

Everything is a drone of noise, I feel distorted and unplugged from reality. I don`t feel myself. I ask myself what are these limbs I carry, why are they hard in the centre ? I have lost all interest in life and my goals. I feel like a toppled pawn. MY life has no purpose left. The delusional thinking is killing me and I want to know why thinks work the way they do.

Why did my drunk brother beat me up and my parents did nothing.I think maybe this was the cause of my illness,all the stress and the hits to my skull.

I just want to climb out of my skin I fell uncomfortable trapped inside this human body.I tried to commit suicide and I didn`t realize it.I saw my arms like tentacles they were attacking me and I defended myself.People appear smaller and their heads have shrunk.I have lost my social skills.My emotions are confused and my mind is distorted.I self medicated with weed to help me ,but it only helped for a little while.My character changed and the way I mean and do things.I would walk around the house for hours talking and thinking to myself.I became obsessed with a Band called Pig destroyer.I believed they wrote about my life.I foiled my room believing it will protect me from RF links and EMI so that I cant be controlled.I thought I was an alien and my mission was to observe people and make a report.my parents were my tutorial.I believed everyone can copy my mind and hear my thoughts but I cannot do the same even if I was supposed to.I wrote strange things on my foiled walls.weird things
and pig destroyer lyrics.I carved alien like signs in my arms and burned a symbol in my chest .my mind would run into walls and i would talk funny according to witnesses.I cant remember much anymore but it basicly sucked.I`d forget things and my memory was delayed.I couldn`t meet people and talk to strangers.

I was diagnosed by a psychiatrist and the professor of psychiatry in south africa.I was put onto respirdal and depramil.I don`t know how things will be from now on but it seems a bit better.

My life ended and began on the day my brother attempted suicide.

I was sixteen, he was nineteen. He had been on medication for Bi-polar for a few months. For the next few months, I barely ate, slept, spoke, or moved. I began to feel split up, uhwhole and raw. As though there were two people inside me.

I first saw Lucy when I was cleaning out my closet one afternoon in August. She was in the spare room next door to mine, and though I did not see her face, I saw her feet beneath the closet door. She was standing inside it, scratching on the door. She wanted out. I ran.

It was around then that the trees began to move eerily, to catch my eye and make contact with me. They whispered to me in ways that nothing ever had. They wanted me to come with them when they died that fall, to find them on the “other side.” They spoke to my heart, to my soul. I believed them and promised to go along when they did. I began to slip into worlds that were far different from our own. Cosmic, gorgeous worlds that one can hardly imagine. The trees called me to be their own, to be their child. To be one with them.

The people inside me began to multiply rapidly. There was Lucy, who I saw regularly in the mirror. We fought and argued all the time. She poked me and pinched me and screamed at me. Then there was Liam, who was actually a real person. My friend. He could feel my feelings, hear my thoughts, see what I was doing. I had no privacy left. Our minds were connected. There were the sisters: Charlotte, Penelope, and Victoria. They needed my help, they wanted me to save them. There was the scarecrow and his alias, Lord Effiddian. He wanted to kill me, to drink my blood and eat my soul. He wanted my hair, my violin, my life. He would eat away my music and murder what was left. He was a brute.
I went on medication two months ago. My father finally realized something was wrong. I hadn’t been eating, sleeping, doing my school work, or even speaking. I COULDN’T speak. I couldn’t move! It was impossible for me to do either of those without the greatest of pain in my soul, in my mind. Colors were either grey or too intense. My thoughts were so loud that I could hear them and sometimes see them. The worlds were so gorgeous–and so terrifying. There was nothing I could do. I felt nothing. My sister cried and I was repulsed. My mother asked me to talk to her and I couldn’t. I was a monster.

Since going on medication, I have begun to recollect my abilities as a violinist, to remember that I am a human being and that my thoughts are my own. I sometimes feel that I have no privacy of thought, that there are too many people talking inside me…but it’s quieter for the most part. Things aren’t so painful anymore.

My life ended and began on the day my older brother attempted suicide. He called me, crying, saying goodbye. I was across the country, unable to do anything but beg him to change his mind. He hung up on me and left me to crumble in confusion and agony.

I am 16 years old. A diagnosed schizophrenic. I have been to the hospital 3 times already for suicidal thoughts. The second time I went was when i found out that i had the disease. When I ususually have gone, the doctors have all tried hurting me to help me. Pills are gross. I slept a lot there. Everybody laughed at me. Theire help did not help much yet. I wish it had. This stinks being a schizo. Scary.

Sometimes the room im in will turn all red and blood slowly will drip from ceiling and floor. Sometimes I’ll feel crawling centipedes all over me. People will touch me and not be there. The smells are disgusting. Vomit. Burning rubber. Pee. Poop. Sometimes every stinky smell in the world all at once.

I can see the future. Think something and it happens. The voices screech at me trying to wreck me. Make me miserable. I dont know where those demon voices come from. The people voices, either. All kinds of voices at once. Its a nightmare. They tell me everyone hates me. Everyone in the world is coming together and poisoning me.

Thats why i dont take drinks. Because the poision is in there. Somewhere. At the top. At the bottom. People think us schizophrenics are just crazy. We’re not crazy. We just dee things differenly than them. We arre suffering. Suffering. Suffering….