They (the “normies”) do not expectantly hope for someone to be dysfunctional and most of them would not care listening to unworthy rants. This is especially true if the poor and the sick are one of their family members. Would you not hope that your own father or brother a successful businessman?
Likewise, if we were recovered and functioning well, they would have “worship” us like a pop star.
Disclaimer: There is exaggeration in the message with original meaning kept intact.
Thanks man… I might have to take a break from the site for a while though.
When I get stuck on trying to help people/understanding mental illness… it starts bleeding into all of my interactions…
I know a lot of neurotypicals… many of them just want to enjoy their lives without this introspection forced on them all the time.
I don’t blame them. It’s not childish to do so. In fact, its jealousy that drives me to pick them apart.
It’s like when you are younger and have to deal with school all day… then you get home and it’s just disorganized relaxation and enjoyment. Once I connected those dots and realized that’s the kind of state they’re in… It created a sympathetic branch for them.
Why would I take that away from them by making everything serious and complicated?
I should be happy for them instead of jealous. Just because I have schizophrenia doesn’t mean everyone should suffer… I’m going to be inspired instead and work to find that experience again. They will be a reminder it’s possible and a reminder of the kind of experience I used to have in my down time.
As for today… I’m going to try and build a picnic table. I’m just hoping it’s not to expensive.
I’ll never forget one time when I came back from being gone for a long time, my aunt was talking to me, “Do you remember the mural you did in Amanda’s room… when she was a baby… you remember who Amanda is, don’t you… Amanda is your cousin… remember…” I looked at her and huffed, “I had a nervous breakdown – I didn’t have amnesia.”
My experience has been a range of people treating me like I’m a bomb they’re trying to diffuse or as if I’m a delicate piece of antique bone china that will break into pieces if you breathe on it. Then, there are those that have an almost frustrated nonbelief that I cannot get past or over my anxieties. In the past, the way I’ve coped with ME was when I felt like I was slipping or spiraling out of control, I would remove myself – disappear. No one would know where I was or what I was doing or how to contact me for years at a time. That way I couldn’t lose control or rage – I could hide myself. When I felt like I was in control of myself again and could handle most aspects of life, I would reappear. This type of behavior went on for about thirty years – mainly because I was undiagnosed, uninsured, unmedicated and of the mind that nothing was out of the ‘norm’ for me. I mean, when you’ve been living this way from a young age and you don’t know any different, this behavior WAS the ‘norm’ for me.
I grew up in a time (I’m making myself sound ancient… I’m not.) when parents didn’t want to admit there was something wrong with their child. EVERYONE wanted to keep up the appearance of being a nice, ‘normal’ family – the way they were on television and in magazines. A time when mental illness and mental health issues had extremely negative connotations. You also have to realize that things like ADD, ADHD, autism, and Aspergers were not even recognized to be in any diagnostic manual, let alone the diagnosis and treatment of childhood schizophrenia. My parents (mother, especially) had dealt with constantly having to institutionalize my shizophrenic grandmother throughout the years. There was experience in recognizing the need for (upping) medication and adjusting/changing medications and treatments when my grandmother was ‘imbalanced’. But the subject was treated like a dirty secret. So, I can only imagine when they more than likely recognized behaviors in their child — the kid is seeing and hearing numbers and the numbers have colors, or when their child doesn’t want to be touched or couldn’t be in public without being terrified or having an emotional outburst… I bet they were rubbing their temples and uttering, “Holy ■■■■… Here we go. Why us.” It’s obvious they decided to do nothing, because I never saw a doctor for anything other than vaccinations and the time I had chickenpox. My guess is they were hoping against hope that I would grow into normal or they could raise me to be old enough to dump me into the world. Anything! As long as they didn’t have to divulge to family and friends (most of all, themselves) that their child was not ‘normal’.
I’m 50 now and I wasn’t officially diagnosed or placed on medication until three years ago. I have lived more than half my life with people treating me like a flake, like I’m a bad person, like I’m not worthwhile, like nothing good will ever come from me. And the entire time, I’m trying to make the best of my situation – a situation in which I didn’t have the luxury of knowing there was a reason for my behavior or the ability to seek out help and support for the reason of my behavior or treatment and medication to help with my behavior. I have lived more than half my life with people treating me differently, some even badly, because I don’t know how to act and/or be what they considered as normal.
We used to have a picnic table on the farm. We’d paint it every couple of years. My older brother and me would spread old newspapers on it and we’d eat watermelons from the garden with grandmother and granddaddy.
Normal people do sort of worship me for being functional at a high and competitive level. It’s a little messed up that I get more respect than other people with scz just because I happen to have motivation and intellect on my side.
I see more struggle and more to respect in most others with scz.
YES. jesus christ, our parents would be proud if we just stay on the medicine because they equate pacing and smoking and talking to hallucinations with suffering. i’ve made lots of progress the last few years, mostly in the career arena, and my dad came right out and told me he was proud of me. the only less emotionally effusive person i’ve met is his father, so it was quite a moment. i will tell you this. if you start to truly succeed in life, you will lose even that one person who believes in you. it’s the nature of the beast. for every foot coming down from above, there are ten clutching hands holding you back.
My parents just think I’m lazy and/or “a bit depressed” and attribute accute psychotic episodes to my financial difficulties. They expect me to out-perform the “normies” and discredit my daily struggles in their ignorance of my mental illness/es.
Sz is not a part of a normies life.
Sz is an inescapable part of ours.
We wish to find balance by spreading awareness.
but… the normies just want to live clean and free. How many of us think of those with cancer constantly?
I mean I’m sure it occurs occasionally, in normies and us… but for the normies SZ is no different. As soon as SZ is doing better then their concerns are relieved…
So acting normal grants them freedom from the existence of this illness. At least partially, it just becomes another thought like cancer.
You can not blame them. They just like you wish to enjoy their lives.
Live what’s best for you. The people who get your suffering are out there, they might not talk about it as it is potentially triggering and depressing… but know they know… I suspect all of us have a few friends like this.
Someone out there is heartbroke over your psychosis. It may even be someone you lost long ago.
Have sympathy and live well for them. Their souls are just as lost as ours… though they may be closer to the shore.