Hello from schizophrenia. How are you doing? I might be the only very fat person you know, but I also might be the only schizophrenia person you know. So here are a few things I want to explain to you.
Being crazy is something I love about myself. Just like being fat is valid and part of the human experience, living under the schizophrenia umbrella is valid and part of the human experience. There are all different shapes and ways of being.
There’s no mistake to fix. My voices and visions don’t need to be turned off. That would be like making myself unable to see with my eyes, or hear with my ears. Why would I want to reduce the information I can take in?
True many people have a hard time with schizophrenia–it’s so much work to learn how to thrive. But there are all kinds of ways to have a hard time. With abundant love and mad survival skills, I’m doing good.
Thank you to Ming, other dear trustworthy people who are gentle with me, the support of Parent Earth, Jaguar, the love of my mama which still nourishes me, and the love of my ancestors whose prayers still protect me.
angel
Being crazy is creative. By taking in more than most people do, I have more to be creative with.
My voices are mostly neutral– some are funny. They come with me. My visions are powerful information. When the angel visited me in the waiting room and put her hand in my chest, that was intense, and I’m glad that’s not what happens every day.
But the experience changed me. Maybe she wasn’t an angel–maybe she was a goddess, Death, delusion, or a strange waking dream. Whoever she was, I’m grateful she touched me. I like who I am. My unusual experiences make me this Strawberry.
abandoned by culture
Schizophrenia has a bad reputation. If you see someone upset, unwashed, and half-naked yelling in the street, I don’t think it’s from schizophrenia. It’s from trauma, violence, and being abandoned by their culture. Maybe schizophrenia is in the mix also. Maybe also possibly meth.
Why not seek pleasure in a drug when there’s not much to lose? Houseless people are treated as non-human–I would yell too. I have yelled too.
Schizophrenia can go lots of ways; it doesn’t need to go a bad way. But horror stories are easy to remember.
Schizophrenia is an excuse that culture uses to give up on people. Every psychiatrist who treated me as a non-human due to my hearing voices, then sedated the fuck out of me, missed an opportunity to help a brilliant being live a meaningful life. I’m so glad I escaped!
Even though culture gave up on me, I love myself. Ming and other good friends never give up on me. My ancestors put me here for a reason, and I will do my work here on earth no matter what. I have complete faith, unconditional and whole, a layer of caliche that I can rely on.
accurate
These days, I love hearing voices and seeing visions. As long as I sleep enough, this life is sustainable. Sometimes I get less stable and suffer emotionally. True, spring is hard with all this light. March madness is a thing–tis the season!
Emotionally, it’s a lot. But my behaviors are ok, and we get through the rough spots together. Thank you to everyone who keeps me in your prayers.
My gifts are part of me. I love that the other world isn’t separate from the physical world. The parts of schizophrenia that doctors try to medicate away are skills. My perceptions are usually accurate, like poetry compares to prose. Just because other people don’t perceive what I perceive, doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
The “delusions” I experience are often trying to keep me safe, showing me truth, and are actually part of shared reality, the underside of shared reality. If I’m in the tunnels under the city, of course it looks different from what people see at ground level. I can spend time in the tunnels, at ground level, or float into the sky.
It’s a fluency of being. I take unplanned trips to the other world, and that’s important. In some cultures I’d be valued and supported.
not a death sentence
I remember when my diagnosis was changed from “bipolar 1 with psychotic features” to “schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type.” I was freaking out. At the time (about 13 years ago) I had a very good therapist who believed in me when I didn’t.
“Why does this diagnosis scare you?” she asked, truly curious.
“It feels like a death sentence,” I said. “I don’t want to be homeless again. When I hear ‘schizophrenia,’ I think of people on the street who lose their freedom and their good lives. I feel doomed.”
“So you think this diagnosis means you can’t have a good life?” she asked.
I explained how schizophrenia seems dangerous. Followed by the shadow of suicide, I was afraid of killing myself, like my mom was always afraid I would kill myself.
My therapist explained how she sees bipolar as more dangerous. She was a very smart lady and helped me get through one of my hardest times. I was doing the impossible. I’d just left my second husband and was creating a new life.
I’m not saying schizophrenia is easy. But the bottom line is nothing can stop me from love. Nothing can stop me from building my own meaning.
blessed
I can’t work full time at a paying job and be a regular person– that dream is long gone. But I can do far better than that, blessed with something greater than money.
You also can do something greater than money. It’s not binary– anyone can visit the other world, hear voices, and be crazy. Many people take hallucinogens or go on a vision fast to taste crazy. Some people have near-death experiences on accident, give birth to a baby, or do other extreme, human things and glimpse behind the veil.
True it’s different to live in crazy town, rather than just visiting. But think of everything I’ve learned.
Just like physical disabilities are life experiences you might not have had, people who are crazy like me have had experiences you might not have had. Rather than devaluing us, you might want to listen up.
