Personal Narrative-The Psychosomnia Brake

I woke up in my bed at the Stephens Adult Psychiatric Unit in Joplin, Missouri. I had dreamt of being back home the previous night, so it was crushing to wake up and realize where I was. It was my 2nd day there, but it felt like much longer. Most psychiatric units have a similar structure. During the week, there are group activities that preoccupy you enough to make the day somewhat bearable. The weekends are worse, because there is nothing. You can either sleep or watch television in the day room with the other patients. The lack of activity constantly reminds you that you’re trapped. That all of your belongings have been taken away. That you are not allowed to go outside at all during the duration of your stay. That you are virtually entirely isolated from the outside world. The only thing I had to look forward to during those days was the hour of visitation with my parents twice a day. You’d think a psychiatric unit would be the one place on

At the age of nine, I watched my uncles lowering my father into the ground and what took his life was addiction. All my life I have watched addiction take over the lives of people, I love. My father's side of the family, besides my grandparents, has always faced addiction. Although, addiction runs through my blood, I will not take the same path I have watched people take all my life. I will be the one to end the cycle. Watching the majority of my family waste their life has motivated me to change the direction and better myself from living a life of addiction and misery.

muzzles [the front of the muskets] of the pieces, and seemed to be endeavoring to close with

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.

“How can I be good again? I just lost my wife and son in a car accident. There's nothing in life that can cheer me up. I have become an alcoholic who is now jobless.” I said. My Therapist, Dr. Newman, told me “Trust me, Mr. Smith. Only time can heal your wounds if you allow it to. Well, that's the end of the session, and I want to recall the accident that occurred so we can talk about it tomorrow.”

We hear the call to rotate and move on to the next station, which is rifle. Alternating shooting positions creates motion in what is otherwise a very still time. Everyone settles into their own small world after getting comfortable, and

Has your world ever been flipped upside down overnight? Well, mine has when my Uncle had a bad stroke that causes him to lose the left side of his brain. This event changed my life forever it was like I was blind to being able to see for the very first time. Those horrible days truly made me rethink my life, and it taught me how precious life is and how quickly life can be taken away. The biggest thing that came out of this was the improvement in my work ethic, giving it my all 100% of the time, and not procrastinating on anything in my life. Having my world flipped upside was probably the greatest thing that could have happened and here's why.

I listened to the weapon’s high pitched tone lessen as it discharged behind me. It didn’t take long before I heard the familiar beep notifying me that the weapon was harmless once again. From what was standing before me in my doorway (at that particular moment), I was happy one part of my body could still function. although, breathing was necessary, what was between my ears was what had more importance for now. What was standing in front of me had instantly froze my feet in place, had widened my eyes as far as they could go, and stopped my heart. I didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do.

He explained that there was a man wearing all black with rubber sandals, his shoulders were slightly stooped. He had a grey ammunition belt around him, a weapon in his hand slowly making his way to the middle of the trail. I saw him and freaked, so pulled the pin to a grenade and threw it near his feet.

Sometimes, I feel like I am experiencing a double therapy. One that I am leading with my therapist, and another one, more passive, in class. School can inadvertently speed up a process for which you are not necessarily ready. It can stir your past and your emotions arise. In that case, there is an assignment that I am postponing and trying in every way possible to avoid or twist differently. The material evoked in class was hard to process and I did not expect it. Ironically, I now think about it all the time. I know that I need to go to the bottom of it one way or another, but homeostasis is compromised and I do not like it. I try to look at it like gym. It is not pleasant but it is good for your health. The problem with that paper is that

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 .

I’ve been trudging along for what seems like hours. I lost count of my steps sometime after my car broke down. When I look around all I see is an almost tangible grey curtain hiding everything except for a small segment of the highway. As I look forward the dark grey of the asphalt blends into the fog. I have no Idea what time it is when the fog rolled in my phone died. Without a clock, any length of time seems to go on forever, especially when the sun is hiding behind the fog. I just something I don’t understand about my situation, there has been no change in light since the fog rolled in. Same brightness the whole time. It’s almost like it’s not that I can’t tell time is passing. It’s that time isn’t passing, but that’s impossible.

Determined to escape this hell hole or die trying I zipped up my vest and began to load the pistol and rifle I took from the guard. Fueled with rage I kicked open the door and released fire on 3 guards crouched in