Almost there ...

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            He stands up as straight as the finger I want to show him. He comes to me with cameras, with excuses, and venom. As soon as his appearance registers in my brain – there is a shift in my mind that slides into an unknown slot – I am filled with dread. He hates me. I hate myself vicariously. Suddenly my life is all in 3^rd person. I see him seeing me; I see me seeing him. I feel him hating me, wanting to beat me and belittle me and abuse me. He has been watching for a long time with recording devices. He’s everywhere. I rub my eyes to exorcise him from them. The skin around the lids becomes red and sore and nothing results. As always, he’s only almost there.

If you hadn’t noticed, I am not always “there.” My mind warps and weaves itself away from reality. I drown in what is at best a daydream and at worst a full-blown psychosis. On any given day I exist somewhere between the two. But wait, you say. Psychosis? Are you saying you’re psychotic? (Or at least you are saying this if you remember those word root exercises from the 3^rd grade.) And yes, I am.

For those of you who need a distinction between what I go through and all those distasteful things that are lumped under the word “psychotic,” this: There is indeed a difference between psychotic and psychopathic. Psychopathic means that one’s brain has been hardwired without a conscience, rendering that person capable of brutal and heinous acts which they perceive as having little or no emotional consequence. All that psychotic means is that I am hallucinating and delusional enough to believe the hallucinations are real, thus warranting some kind of response.

To sum up the differentiation: Psychopathic = climbing onto a clock tower and taking people out indiscriminately with your deer rifle and not feeling any need to apologize. Psychotic = talking to the voices in your head in all alone in a room you are too paranoid to leave. Yes, both can be dangerous, but only 2% of people in prison for a violent offense is considered psychotic. If you’re into math, it is deducible easily that this leaves a whopping 98% of folks incarcerated for violence who are discerned certifiably sane. Think about that.

So, the first paragraph today is a small taste of what it’s like to have these annoying People inside your head. I know they aren’t real, but somehow it still feels like they are. This makes it difficult to keep it together in public, especially if the situation is stressful. “They” are all around me, anonymous and ubiquitous. It’s like I have an entourage everywhere I go. Honestly, it makes me feel bad for the numerous celebrities who really do have people following them everywhere with cameras.

Myself, I have never been violent, and believe me my case of schizophrenia is pretty severe. My main problem is being able to tell between reality and fantasy. But I take medicine like a religion. I try to sleep enough. I practice Zen meditation to still my thoughts. I take care of myself and keep in touch with my support system. I see a psychotherapist along side my medication doctor. I still have bad days, but I’m getting well.

And I’m almost there.