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spiritual_emergency · Jul 10, 2007, 07:39 AM

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Re: The kind of stuff that will break your heart...

There are a number of individuals I remain indebted to, each of whom have helped bring me to this place I am in today. Foremost among these are two dear friends who know who they are. I would not have made it without them and they know as much, for I've told them both, many times over.

I am also indebted to a stranger who reached out to me with compassion and concern during the peak of my "psychosis". A little kindness in the right place goes far. That individual is also aware of the impact they had on my life.

I am further indebted to the internet itself and the wealth of material it delivered right to my doorstep from some of the most innovative and brilliant minds in psychology and psychiatry: Carl Jung, John Weir Perry, Marion Woodman, David Lukoff, Loren Mosher, R.D. Laing, Maureen Roberts, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Anne Baring, Rufus May, Daniel Fisher, and numerous others.

I am especially indebted to other ordinary human beings like me, who have an intimate understanding of the experience that is known as psychosis/schizophrenia in this culture. They have been some of my greatest teachers...

[*] It was 1972 when Isaiah decided to drop a hit of acid on the beach with two fellow students in his medical program. At some point in that experience, the sun rose... As it crested the horizon, the sun blossomed into full flower and spoke to Isaiah: The sun told Isaiah that he was a child of god. Isaiah interpreted this to mean that he was Jesus Christ.

Isaiah's friends didn't know what to make of his god trip so they dropped him at the doorstep of the local psych ward. According to Isaiah, he then underwent more than 200 electroshock treatments and more than 200 hours of insulin coma therapy for the crime of believing he was god.

I always respected Isaiah for he was one tough cookie, but I also gave him a wide berth because he was rumored to have killed his psychiatrist. For all I know, Isaiah himself started that rumor. I can see where it would have had a certain degree of usefulness for him. It helped ensure that others -- like me -- kept their distance. After all, Isaiah didn't mind his time spent dancing with the gods; it was the human beings he didn't trust.

Isaiah has never recovered from the trauma of his treatments. In spite of wherever he's been, he's managed to secure a small parcel of land for himself in a beautiful setting, a wife, and children. For what it's worth, Isaiah also happens to still believe that he is Jesus Christ and I -- for one -- am not willing to argue the matter with him.

[*] Hazel was a young mother when she experienced her first psychotic break. She was separated from her husband and children and placed in a lock-down ward where unusual behavior was punished by being stripped naked, hosed down, and placed in isolation. Hazel's behavior strayed into the unusual so often, she finally took to going naked.

It took Hazel eighteen years to move through her schizophrenic process; she identifies an empathic therapist as being instrumental in her recovery.

[*] Patricia was a woman I encountered through our mutual involvement with a specific website. I'm almost ashamed to say that I don't remember much of Patricia's personal experience. What I do remember is that she was one of the few people who ever took the time to read the account of my experience, and read it with the same, painfully slow deliberation as it was written over those several weeks. She didn't judge, she didn't rush in to make my experience into something more palatable to her. She let it be...

Patricia is not only recovering; she is assisting in the recovery of others.

[*] Michael was a graduate of John Hopkins University in their mathematics program. A clearly sensitive young man, Michael also wrote poetry, had been practicing kundalini yoga and experimenting with ethnogens when he began to experience a strange sequence of synchronicities and coincidences. What was most striking to me at that time was that he had encountered three women in swift succession, appropriately named Eve, Helen and Mary.

Michael jumped off a bridge two days before Christmas. He was the teacher who taught me why it's important to share my experience with others -- so they feel less alone in theirs. Michael was 31 years old. I will never forget the anguish of his father.

[*] I didn't meet Benjamin. I met his mother. She was a truly beautiful person who was deeply grieving the loss of her son. Benjamin had died due to a rare complication of anti-psychotic medication known as Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome. The cause of death on his autopsy report was listed as, "Natural".

Benjamin's mother didn't quite know how to wrap her mind around such a word. How could the death of her beautiful son be natural? How could he die as a result of the treatment that was supposed to help him? How could those within the medical community dismiss his death so callously as being "natural"?

Benjamin was 25. His mother is currently recovering.

[*] Marek was a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic who spent six years in the care of psychiatrists and various medications. I ran across his blog when I followed up on a well placed link. Shortly thereafter, Marek went through another "break". He decided to go into the experience itself and in that process, made some fascinating discoveries about why he was the way he was.

Marek is recovering.

[*] xxxxxxxxx was in his late teens when he went through his first "break". Like Marek, I first "met" him through his blog. He could be one of the many young men out there who first encounter this experience called "schizophrenia" in this culture when they are on the verge of adulthood.

xxxxxxxxx has had great difficulty coping with what I call the encounter with the abyss -- a point of annhilation that can be part of the "schizophrenic" process, wherein one experiences oneself as nothing at all. He also has anger at having been cast into this experience that may well mean that no one will ever look at him the same way again. This part of him, angry and alone as it may be, gives me hope. Somewhere, xxxxxxxxx knows he's much more than a label -- he is a human being, having a very human experience.

Our encounters were brief, few, and in between. Still, there was an intelligent mind and a sensitive heart behind that chosen cyber name. I think of him often and hope he finds his own recovery -- in his own way and his own time.

Source: Dedication

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I sincerely believe that every individual who is given the label of "schizophrenic" deserves the best of care. Many of them do not get it.

The least hopeful data tells us that at minimum, one third of those diagnosed will recover fully. I would not be interested in working with any psychiatrist who cannot meet this minimum. Given their opportunity for expertise and an abundance of technological tools, their results should be considerably higher. The fact that they are not is a burden that rightfully belongs in the lap of psychiatry but it is one that, more commonly, their patients will bear on their behalf.

"Schizophrenics" deserve better.

See also: Schizophrenia & Hope