Essay On Mental Illness

I have schizophrenia and I live with schizophrenia. This is my story. I remember being a teenager and loving every bit of life from school work, my family, my dogs and my friends. I was always known for my positive attitude and energy and being the life of the group. This all started to change around the age of 13 or 14 for me. The voices began one late afternoon on my way home from school. At first I thought it was just my imagination until I realized there was no off button for them. The voices continued to appear from this day on and I gradually lost myself within them. I started to shelter myself from my family and friends and believed I was slowly losing my sanity. I was scared to share my experience with anyone so I kept to myself withdrawn from the world I once loved.

The depression is overwhelming. I cry uncontrollably. At its worst, I cannot move. Gravity seems to have added weight tenfold. I wake up in my bed, struggling to get out. I am unable to. Breathing hurts. I try to cry out for help, but I cannot move my mouth to form the words in my disgusted mind. I am trapped in my own head. I am trapped in my own body, a body that is entirely numb.

If you were to see me walking down the street you would never guess that I was in foster care. I dress and act like your everyday 17 year old, and in a way I am. Except I was placed in foster care when I was 15 years old. Scratch that I put myself in foster care when I was 15 years old. I bet you’re asking “why”? “Why would you do such a thing”? Well my mother was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia also known as disorganized schizophrenia. Just in case you don't know disorganized schizophrenia is characterized by incoherent and illogical thoughts and behaviors, so when you are 15 that's not a good situation to be in. My mother couldn't keep a job therefore she could not support us.

No one considered that Schizophrenia was the ailment that tormented my brother. We assumed it was just stress and anxiety that stole his nights, his sanity, and his joy. We all believed that it was just a phase my happy, go-lucky, comic brother would get over. After all, doesn't everybody go through these rough patches of their life, and like a phoenix tried through a fire, rise triumphantly? That was my hope for my brother. But as the days progressed, fatigue mixed with delusions consumed my brother’s thoughts and disrupted his ability to function. As a sister, I felt helpless watching my big brother, my hero, and my confidant going through the greatest battle of his life - mental illness. Episodes and psychiatric breakdowns were constant,

Before my husband died, our daughter, Veronica, was diagnosed with childhood schizophrenia. We brought her to countless specialists and nearly all of them came to the same conclusion. The condition is rare, but certainly not unheard of. We were devastated. The doctors suggested that we not start her on medication right away. They were concerned the chemicals might interfere with the development of her brain. At five years old, when proper brain development is critical, they didn’t want to chance it. Only if the hallucinations became severe would they prescribe antipsychotics.

When I heard that these disorders could also affected me resulting from major depressive disorder, I was still in denial mode. Then I came to realize that having MDD was only affecting me, but also affecting my family and my friends. I became a bother to them and also came to realization that I needed help. So I asked my parents to help me seek treatments to where I can get back to my normal self. My normal self was a person that was cheerful, always making jokes, happy, and just lived life to the fullest. I miss my normal self. The treatments that I had were very affective. The disorder that I was treated for is psychotherapy, where I talked about what is making me think negative thoughts and it allow discussing how I can improve on thinking

Working with substance abuse clients fits with my career goal as I am pursuing the degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. The reason for entering the counseling field was/is a genuine desire to help people who are going through difficult time in their lives and to show them there is a way out and there is a life that is worth of living. Personally, I have not experienced or have had people who abused substances, (overly) however, from the grief experience to a caregiver role intrigued me to pursue mental health as a whole. It is clear that mental health and substance abuse can have a powerful effect on one health, his/her family, and community. Having this in my mind, is nothing could be more rewarding than knowing that I could save

what to say though. Just say what you feel just as we are doing right now we both can see the therapist. Now I think I can sleep mom goodnight. Goodnight son.

Mental health disorders can affect anyone regardless of how much we make, what we do for work, or where we live. It is also very difficult for most people to be able to afford to pay for mental health services. In a recent article in the newspaper it mentioned how people are having a hard time to afford rents in this area. When it comes down to be able to pay your rent, paying for mental health therapy, or mental health prescriptions, rent will win every time. I work full time and I looked into how much it would cost for ongoing mental health treatment if it were necessary, and the cost is astounding, and that’s with insurance. There are regular visits with Primary Care Physicians that are required to monitor your progress which has a

I must say I was confused, I ‘liked’ you and ‘liked’ me, I write and no reply. I thought I said something awful. Apology accepted 

It came in waves. It started when I was 14 years old, in my 8th grade year. While I have no idea what triggered this, I do know that it was a six-year long slope of mental health degradation pushing me to my breaking point, depriving me of sleep, energy, and my own identity. Unfortunately for me, my family has always been skeptical and critical of mental health issues. My parents always taught me that mental health is a scam and those who claim to have an issue are simply weak. So, it may not be much of a surprise that when I approached my mother about what I was experiencing, she screamed "No, you do not have a problem! You need to grow up!" Her words still ring in my head, and I still remember thinking, I am alone. I have nowhere to turn

I thought it was a costume party. But, it wasn’t, it was the big end of the year party. It was the last day of school, and the teachers were throwing a huge party at the middle school to celebrate. Everyone was there, Bob, Joe, Jeff, even Jimmy was there. Not many people talk to Jimmy because some say he went mentally insane. Joe and Bob are my best friends. I’ve known them since kindergarten. Anyway, when I got the invitation in the mail I thought it was a costume party. But, when I got there, I was in my zombie costume. Derek was in the corner cracking up. Derek was also one of my friends. But today, he was just in the corner of the room sketching a picture of a tiger. He also had his pet lizard, Zilla, on his shoulder.

I never really thought of myself having a mental illness until death had struck my family. When everything was right in the world, death crept in on me and caused the unthinkable; sorrow and pain. The illness had struck...depression. I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone about what I was going through. I bottled up all of my emotions and hid behind closed doors. Depression is something I thought I would never come to in my life, but with all the struggles I faced, it occurred.

At only 19 months old, I contracted an illness that changed the rest of my life. This illness left me blind and deaf, and throughout the years, it caused many people to doubt my abilities. However, it’s also led me to meet people with large amounts of respect and sympathy to offer.

I am a warm hearted person, a superb student—and a victim of a mental illness. I bet you didn't see the last one coming, did you? Didn't think so. Of course on the outside I look like the basic mill-of-the-run teenage girl: long hair, even longer eyelashes, a flamboyant romper, and, of course, a pair of Tory Burch sandals. I even act like an average teenage girl: obsessed with coffee, shopping, grades, and my social life. However, I am much more complex than that.