Small Victory over Psychosis

So. Today I was listening to the Cranberries, their song "Zombie," which always haunts me. This idea that your head is a battlefield is really close to what I experience on almost a daily level. I listened to the song about a dozen times, and I started thinking about a story I'm working on, where a young Buddhist is offered the chance to become a god--but must go through true horrors to achieve apotheosis. I left my apartment and walked a few blocks to the thrift store, where I wanted to look for a rain jacket, because my old one is worn out, and it's supposed to rain this weekend.

And in that moment psychosis hijacked my mind, and I started to stagger along the sidewalk, belting out the lyrics to the song. My body filled with energy, tons of energy, and I was seized with the desire to kill everyone in a ten-block radius. Incredibly violent fantasies filled my mind, of sending out a psychic shockwave that would drive everyone mad and make them murder each other; I saw a father pick his 4-year-old daughter up by the feet and spin around with her and smash her head into a coffee table, killing her instantly. And the homeless people started strangling and beating each other to death. The cops shot everyone and then turned their weapons on themselves. And it was good. For twenty-five minutes, godhood was defined as the ability to destroy maximum numbers of lives. My voices screamed in my head and encouraged me to destroy myself, and the whole experience raged and wailed and shrieked in my mind.

And then it got out of control, because I stepped in front of the trolley and was nearly killed. Accidently on purpose, know what I mean? In that second, some guy next to me in the crosswalk said, "That's why you want to look where you're going, or they'll kill you." And I thought, "No, it's the voices that are trying to kill me, not the trolley." Just like that, the episode was over, and I was back in control of myself. It was like recognizing that the voices were in control was the way to defeat them. Like naming a demon's true name. I felt worn out and enervated, and I came home and slept for 3 hours.

God, I "love" psychosis. I've heard of schizophrenics claiming they could kill people with the power of their mind, but I don't think I've ever experienced this particular delusion of grandeur before. And hopefully never again...

Are they always so dangerous?

Good morning, eeyore.
No, usually my voices just choose to torment me, or try to get me to say/do stupid things. But I have been thinking a lot about violence lately, and the way that everyone who writes mental illness memoirs proclaims that they are peaceful people who would never hurt a fly. And yet we all know the names: Adam Lanza, Jared Loughner, James Holmes, etc. For some people, violent thoughts and impulses are part of the illness, and that is the way it is for me from time to time.

Currently I am working on the outline for my second memoir, which covers 18 months of my illness, and how the symptoms express. In this book I want to break the taboo against discussing violence and mental illness. The media sensationalizes this linkage, especially for people with psychotic symptoms, while mental health workers like to play down the linkage and highlight the fact that most mentally ill people are harmless.

It would be a service to the community of the mentally ill, and those interested in us, to talk about this subject from the inside. Wouldn't you like to know what Adam Lanza was thinking as he killed all those children? And the progress of his illness over the months leading up to his rampage. How did he lose control? Did his voices take him over all in one terrible coup, or did they lay the groundwork for months or even years, one deadly thought at a time, until an avalanche of violence was inevitable? If we read about the extreme examples, and come to understand their sad journey, we can avoid their missteps and maybe change the fates of others who find themselves on the same track.

Those are my thoughts.

Yes it is a very interesting subject; but aren't you concerned by the fact that a similar episode could kill you?

Adam lanza didnt have schizophrenia. He had autism.

His father said that he suspected that his son had schizophrenia.

You know... I eat right and exercise daily. I see my shrink regularly and take my meds. I practice CBSST, and I talk with my friends constantly and try to stay ahead of the symptoms. That is all the control I have over my situation. If Heather or the other voices get me to move in front of a bus and I am killed, well, I did the best I could. We are all fighting life or death battles every day. Choose your weapons, learn to employ them to the best of your ability, and roll the bones.

Thanks for your concern, eeeyore. I have accepted my illness, and I will do my best to manage it. Hopefully that will mean a long, meaningful life. In the meantime, the psychotic episodes are interesting, and, while I don't like them, they're always a learning experience.

Suspected. But it doesnt make it so. I watched the documentary on these people. Maybe he did. Maybe i missed something. But suspected doesnt make it so.

He certainly did seem like he had it though.