Personal Narrative: Mentally Insane

I’ve always been passionate about understanding others; stepping into their shoes and seeing, thinking, and appreciating the lives they live. I think it is important to take that extra step and see things from a different point of view. It is the only way to achieve a true understanding. I believe in this philosophy so much so, that it’s one of the main reasons I have this blog; to give others a glimpse of a life with mental illness. I’ve been in treatment for 2 months and 26 days and I think it’s time for another peek into my brain.

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.

Bob is in a cop car going to the mental hospital for the 100th time. Bob is asking the police officer Aleck.

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,

My first victim was my only victim. At the time she was only sixteen. She was a petite blonde child. You could see the fear reflecting in her eyes. She had no clue what was going to happen and to be honest I didn’t either looking back now. It started at school, walking the halls filled with teenagers but it felt as if I was completely alone. Then it spread to my splatter painted, dim lighted room. I would come home lay down and sleep all the way to the next morning never moving an inch out of place.

What a crazy and fast year it's been hasn't? If you asked me when was last Febuary I would have said 3 months ago and now I hear that your birthday is

I performed for the very first time in the 3rd grade talent show, when I sang “Manic Monday” by the Bangles. My aunts contributed shoes, bracelets and socks, then my mother pulled my curly hair up into the highest ponytail I’ve ever achieved to date. Despite having practiced with my dad every day, I was unbearably nervous. My knees trembled so much I was unsure they would hold me up long enough to finish up the song,and I was grateful for the stage lights, so I didn't have to see my classmates. When I watched the video again recently, I saw something unexpected. Despite being visibly nervous, 8 year-old me looks completely happy, and much less nervous than I remember feeling. You can almost see my love for music and performance blooming. The

There was a girl, her name was Emiri, while she was innocent looking enough with her short white hair and innocent looking face. She seemed to have a smile on her face all the time in front of people even when it wasn't appropriate time to have a smile on her face like if somebody had died in a really tragic way, she would still have a smile on her face as if she didn't feel anything. When people would ask her why she was smiling at such a horrid thing she would only reply “Because I think this world is so wonderful, even with the bad things that happen. That's why I am smiling. We only had one chance to be here and their time was up, so why would you hurt yourself over their ending time? After all somebody else will be written to replace them

Growing up with mental illness is one of the most challenging things I’ve had to tackle so far in my life. It is exhausting and almost mind numbing, to be able to constantly reassure myself that how I am feeling is okay and that I am doing exceptional took a great deal of patience, determination and many sad days. As tiring as it was and often times I just wanted to stop, I persevered because one day I want to help others who feel the way I do and have a hard time coping with their mental illness. Managing my depression and anxiety and turing these negative thoughts into something healthy and encouraging is one of my proudest accomplishments in my life so far. burdens me and often time makes me feel as if it is impeding me from going outside

I was an average high school student that did fair in school but interested more in my social life. Going into senior year at Lakewood High School I scrambled to find a college to attend, and a career to pursue. My dad pushed me to be a doctor and I was willing to pursue that path because of the financial opportunities. I was accepted to the University of Colorado in Boulder first semester, I thought I was on my way to becoming successful in life. Second semester came around and school was on auto pilot. My English teacher from freshman year stopped me in the hall the day before winter break after my last final

It’s really hard to try and be a normal, functioning person when you’re constantly reminded of something that happened years ago. It’s hard to even try to make sense of it when your brain blocks out things it doesn’t understand. Did I consent? I don’t think so. Did I say no? I don’t remember. I felt like I said no. I don’t remember. I felt like he pressured me. It didn’t feel good. It hurt. Sometimes I can still feel it happening, which is hard to try and hide when you’re in public and you can feel the pressure of someone who was once there.

¨Twenty seconds of insane courage and I promise, something good will come out of it,¨ I murmured under my breath insistently. Despite my colossal fear of heights, with the persistent coaching of my 3 best friends, I found myself 25 feet high in the air on the cramped edge of a cliff at Pewit’s Nest State Park. Hands pouring sweat and legs trembling, I felt my way along the narrow pathway to ¨the jumping spot.¨ Even though the ¨jumping spot was only a couple feet away from the point where you climb up, it felt miles long and my breathing quickened rapidly. I knew that if I looked down at the swirling water, or even up at the dark overhangs and massive cliffs above me, I would chicken out and crawl back down the ledge to safe ground. So, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my destination, the jumping spot, I cautiously placed one foot in front of the other.

This is insane....you would help her if you knew she was disabled but your not going to because she is voting for someone your against. Finally you say oh people have different taste of ice cream okay.....so you would not speak to your friend or help someone because they like choclate ice cream when you like vanilla. This sounds immature and ignorant. A person belief or pratice should not stop you from assisting and if you are a disciple of god as was said you should know that judging someone based on beliefs is also a sin. I am tired of people using GOD or the bible to cover up they're inmoral

I am a 27-year-old living in New York and I was recently accepted for a job in an insane asylum for psychiatric patients as a security job at the night shift. At first, the job scared me, but I took little worry as all the patients were tied up and locked away while I sat and watched some cameras and got paid for it in a locked room until 6:00am. When I first arrived, I was given a small book on what to do and told what some of the equipment was and once that was all done I threw on my uniform and walked to the security room. The room was 2 halls down past the prisoner cells. As I was walking down I looked through one of the cell windows and a person jumped at the window smashing his head on the door screaming in a jumpsuit.

I finally decided to stop running for the time being, my legs were limp and were in tremendous pain, and my nasty gash looked even worse than before. I saw an enormous oak tree and I forced myself to get up and hide over there for a bit. While I was siting their my mind was in complete shock of the events that had taken place, it wouldn't stop replaying in my mind, then I broke down and started to sob hysterically like a maniac, but what I just saw and my mental and physical state I couldn't help