Personal Narrative: My Struggle With Mental Illness

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.

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 I was scared to share my experience with anyone so I kept to myself withdrawn from the world I once loved.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.

It’s a struggle to get out of bed sometimes, I often just sit there struggling to comprehend the sequence of events which have taken place over the past year. I mean, I’m used to this now, its normal to me, but the fact that this has happened and that I am now ‘disabled’ as people would put it is hard to get my head around. And every time I look down I’m reminded of the pain and the struggle I faced, it’s a physical scar which links me to my grueling past, a physical and emotional journey.

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.

The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me and soon after that my brother passed away, so; I developed really bad anxiety. I had to continue the rest of my highschool career on independent studies because of the amounts of school I missed. A year after I graduated the doctors found out I had giardia and that I was having muscle spasms from the amount of stress I was going throught. I had to take a series of antibiotics for 2 months and I become a lot better. I had to learn to control my stress so that I no longer had stomach spasms and I had to learn how to manage my anxiety (which I thought i could never overcome). This experience impacted me more than anything else in my life. I learned how strong that I am and that if I could get through that, I can get through

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,

Still till this day he hasn't got arrested or the detectives have not gave me updates . RIght now am doing very good i still go to therapy if didn't i think i would be a big mess.it has helped me alot i have become a better person it made see things different. I do sometimes have my bad days and weeks but i go thru them . it's hard for me to come to school every year since i told my parents . if we have a 3 day weekend it hard for me to come back to school and get used to the people .

An accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that played a key role in shaping who I am today was we when I no longer treatment for my mental illness – Major Depressive Disorder.

My first week went really well! I was definately both nervous and excited on the first day. I was nervous because I wasn't sure how the clinic would run and I quickly learned that it is a very fast paced clinic. My CI sees patients every 15 minutes and he is both the only PT there and the owner of the clinic. I have been learning a lot about PT treatments as well as the buisness side of the PT clinic. He has a lot of PT aides that help with exercises and setting patients up with ice and stim ect. The fast paced clinic was definately something I had to get used to. I was a little overwhelmed when we would just start with a patient and a new patient would walk in the door. However, there is a very good flow in the clinic and everyone is always

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

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 experienced illness when my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. The most devastating aspect of this experience was when we had to make a choice as a family on how we were going