Hospital - Part 2

Welcome back. Thanks for reading. I'm endeavouring to update this much more often, and publicise it a bit more. Please do comment if you read this - advice on writing, mental health, your own experiences, would all be appreciated by myself and other readers. Thanks a lot!

SHORT POST

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By Spring 2005, it was clear that something was wrong, and I wasn't just complaining to be a dick, as some people thought. So, I went to see my doctor, who referred me straight to the local team for mental health in young people - a bloody good team. I went onto Prozac straight away, a fairly low dose to begin with. The effect was positive, however my general state declined over the following 6 months. My friendships were radically affected in this time. Some grew stronger, others fizzled away. Friends and family are the single key to good mental health - their support saved my life on several occasions. Little dos and big dos, my mental state declined to the point where I was ready to kill, ready to live or die at a seconds notice. So I was taken into hospital.

The first thing one notices about psychiatric care as an inpatient is the 'formula.' Your treatment is generally planned around scores and charts, numbers. There are numerous ways of 'assessing' a patient, and one of the authorities' favourites is a simple form which asks you to rate elements of your mental health on a scale of 1-10. If there is one sure thing about schizophrenia, it is that it is impossible to break things down to something so numeric, so specific. It's insultingly simple, this form.
"So Joe, how happy are you?" He sits there with his clipboard and fountain pen and standard rape alarm.
"Well Doc, I'm stuck here with nothing to do but attempt to read this newspaper from eight weeks ago whilst attempting to combat the side effects of this anti-psychotic medication designed 30 years ago. On the plus side, the ceiling is talking to me about Dwarves! So I'll give it 6." I hope that my hatred of this approach is understandable to you.

Hospital - Part 1

Right then, I promised I'd write an entry on my first stay in a psychiatric hospital, and I'm sorry it's taken so long. But here it is!

So, I wrote last time of the general collection of symptoms to which I am regularly subject. You must understand, however, that only in the past year have I gained such in depth understanding of my own illness. For the longest time, I was quite simply terrified of myself. I had no clue concerning the real and the imagined, good and bad, right and wrong, acceptable and unacceptable. To put it bluntly, I was disturbed.

Picture this, if you will. You wake up, and there is silence. This silence, you know, should be calming, but it isn't. They are waiting. Why? Are they taunting you? Maybe they are in control. Or perhaps you have got rid of them. Fear and happiness both rise inside you, incongruous, giving you a slight feeling of nausea. But then they come back. And you kick yourself for not making the most of those 15 seconds when you were free. The day waits for you now, and it's going to hurt. And there's the rub - even when the positive symptoms (such as hallucinations) are absent, calm is still maddeningly out of reach.

As you can imagine, my school life was hindered a great deal. I was 15 when this stuff originally kicked off, so I was studying for GCSEs. It wasn't always scary, mind you. Some of the experiences I had were actually very funny, in a way. For example, I had a French teacher who I really didn't get on with, and in one lesson she chose me to translate something she had said. I attempted to do so, but in my mind was one of the voices, I named Terry, which I had got quite used to over the months. Terry was a very mischievous entity indeed, and on this occasion made me burst out laughing by loudly translating into the most ridiculous 'French' you'd ever hear, a mix between a stereotypical Parisian talking about baguettes and an inept English student attempting to sound like a stereotypical Parisian talking about baguettes. I got sent out of the lesson, but in all honesty I didn't care. It was, at that stage, quite enlightening to be able to engage with the voices in that way (a technique at which I have become rather proficient.) However, that not caring became a double edged sword, and I soon fell under the corrupting spell of self harm.

I'd like to talk about self harm a little bit. Self harm is something which is detrimental to the mind and the body. It is an evil vice which, paradoxically, is one of the most addictive things I've ever experienced. Self harm can do many different things for different people. For some, it is a most secret pursuit which is undertaken to promote a sense of feeling, of existence. The pain washes over you like a warmth, a friend, a gift you have given yourself. I absolutely cannot explain the feeling of euphoria and ecstasy that one can experience though something so destructive. Others do it to seek help, but I will stress that in the vast majority of cases, this is not done for attention. Rather it is used as a last resort, when all other avenues are gone.

I am aware that I have, in a way, just 'glamorised' self harm. This is not my intention, I simply want to express all facets of the subject. Please don't get me wrong. The act of deliberately causing harm to oneself is something which can lead you on the road to unimaginable pain further down the line. It can tear friendships asunder, dissolve your confidence to ridiculous lows, and ultimately destroy you, slowly and very painfully. And I don't necessarily mean through injury.

In my case, I began by cutting flesh using a blade, which I continued for around 6 months or so. But as with all violence, one becomes desensitized. I began routinely depriving myself of sleep, deliberately stepping off kerbs without looking, burning myself, beating myself on the face and stomach. I ended up looking a mess, but usually not obviously showing any wounds, initially anyway. I did succumb to the temptation of letting my wounds be seen. I am incredibly guilty about this. I see it now as a very selfish act, not considering the effect it will have on those who are closest to you. I can only say I'm sorry, and move on. The point I'm trying to make is that there is a terrible paradox in dealing with psychosis. You can take one of two paths. One, you fight it with every speck of your being - a losing fight. This will drive you absolutely mad with the feeling of inevitability surrounding the whole battle. On the other hand, you can take the apathetic approach of accepting your lot, and surrendering to it. The consequences are obvious: a severe nervous breakdown. A balance is hard to find, but it does exist. I will discuss this in a later entry.

Joseph Sagar - Crazy? I think not.

I think that for the purposes of this blog, I should say some things about my life to put the rest into some kind of context. This won't be my life story. Just a few things about how I became who I am today, and what that means for the future.

I live in the UK, in quite a nice area in the North West. The schools are excellent, as is local health care and, in the majority, policing. When I was 10 years old, however, I started to become a target of bullying. This started off as verbal abuse based on very childish things. The real problem came because of my responses. I would retaliate aggressively, (albeit non-physically in the main.) This just gave my antagonists a new medium on which to exploit. I soon gained quite a reputation for having a very short fuse. Indeed, I attained the nickname of "Psycho Joe", an identifier which only further enraged me. I subsequently became something of an emotional recluse; I would find sanctity in my own company and be glad of my own thoughts.

This attitude, however helpful at the time, developed a pattern of fantasy in my lifestyle, as well as a distrust of others. I confided in few. Looking back, I am unsure as to whether these 'few' were real or not, it is possible that the problems diagnosed when I was 15 came into being much earlier. I cannot be sure. It was clear, however, that things were taking a constant downward spiral.

I am very aware that all this sounds like a search for sympathy, but I'd like to stress that this is not my motive. It's all very relevant for the rest of the blog, and is for my own benefit as well as for the reader.

The real breakdown commenced at the end of 2004, when I was 14. There was one sole reason (or so it seemed at the time. In retrospect, of course, it was simply a trigger for a much deeper issue.) I think it is OK for me to write about this; the person concerned is very aware of my feelings and, I'm sure, will forgive me. I met her when I was 11, and, to be honest, was fascinated with her. It wasn't love, per se, more of a childish infatuation. This slowly developed into a very deep love, something which was incredibly painful and hard to assimilate. The already in built lack of confidence prevented me from expressing this, and the feelings soon spiralled out of any kind of control. In any case, I closed up. As I have said, this was not the sole cause of depression and psychosis, more of a breakdown of my emotional immune system.

Schizophrenia is something surprisingly common, with around 1.1% of the population over 18 years old being diagnosed at some point (source being National Institute of Mental Health.) The theories are generally based around genetic tendencies rather than anything environmental. It seems strange for me to have to do this, but it is rife with misconception, so I will now attempt to describe what schizophrenia isn't.

Schizophrenia is not multiple personality disorder. The world schizophrenia comes from Greek - "Schiz" meaning split and "Phren" meaning mind. This is probably where this originates.

Schizophrenics does not mean that a sufferer is in any way 'dangerous'. There is a very common trend for the media to really focus on the element of schizophrenia where crimes are concerned. I will try to clear this up - Crimes committed by schizophrenics (which are only as common as in the general population) are due to influences which would affect absolutely any person, such as destitution, loneliness, fear. The list goes on and on. My point is simply this - Crimes are the committed by people. Not by schizophrenia. While it can be a factor, this is rare and due to a feeling of threat which is often quite justified.

Schizophrenics are not disabled. Do not get me wrong - it is a very debilitating illness which can make life difficult. However: many of us work in full time jobs, go to university, and life very practical lives. I am in my last year of Sixth Form college and have been very successful in my studies. Think of it as a broken leg, for example. It is something we have been dealt, and something which we work around as best we can.

Schizophrenia noes not make a person difficult to make friends with. I have a lot of absolutely amazing friends which give me every reason to stay alive and stay happy. I give as much as I take and I hope I have as much positive input into their lives as they do in mine. Before this started, in fact, I truly didn't know the meaning of a friend. Schizophrenia has changed my view on so many things, and in a lot of ways has made me a much better person.

So, now you know what schizophrenia is not, I'll try to explain what it is.

Schizophrenia (I'll call it SZ - you're probably sick of hearing the word now :P) is a syndrome - to any that don't know the term syndrome simply means a collection of symptoms. It is not a disease, it simply represents a state of mind. No two cases of schizophrenia are the same - it affects everyone in different ways. Obviously I can only comment on how it has affected me. SZ often involves hallucinations, to which I am not a stranger. In my case voices are the most common manifestation, but they can involve other things too. For example, I often see colours or abstract shapes in the air which have absolutely no explanation. I will often feel something which is quite difficult to explain - it is like a tingling, a movement with no source. Sometimes I even lose control of a limb for several minutes. This is probably the strangest and most unpleasant element of it, and something which was a complete mystery for a long time - We once theorized that the 'movement' might be caused by some kind of parasite! Apparently, however, an EEG showed a strange pattern when I experienced this feeling, seemingly confirmation that it was part and parcel of the whole mindfuck (my affectionate name for SZ :D).

The 'voices' started off just that - a collection of voices which would talk in my mind (although the fact that they were in my mind was often not apparent to me: I am now quite skilled at knowing what is a hallucination.) Now however, although voices are still an issue, it is more a sort of meaningless chatter which I can understand. I know this sounds strange, but it is extremely difficult to explain. I suppose the best way to describe it is like a sixth sense - something which I can experience and understand entirely. This is like explaining sight to a blind person I suppose.

I'm going to take a break. This post is getting epic. I hope this hasn't been too boring. I'm planning to write my next post on my stay in a psych ward. Tune in next time.

Joe

Anger at ignorance.

I am very annoyed. I work at McDonald's. I know it's not an admirable profession, however, this does not give others the right to act with impunity concerning their comments towards me! Let me explain.

Sunday, whilst on shift, some ignorant scum who I have the misfortune of knowing entered the place. When I was younger, these guys used to bully me about everything I did. They made my life miserable to be honest. When in year 10, I had to leave school to go and live in a hospital for 6 months concerning my mental health. I will tell about this in a subsequent blog. For now, I'll say that it was the hardest time I've had to face in my life so far, and only with the help of the doctors and my wonderful friends did I come through it alive. The fight is still going on now, and it is something I still deal with every day. These guys have no idea about schizophrenia. The hate these people showed for me on Sunday seemed to be born out of pure and utter ignorance. At least that's what I'd hope. The fact is, I don't think it was ignorance. It seems to be a matter of fact these days that those with mental illness issues are shunned just as much as say, 50 years ago. All this talk about improvement in the mental health service is bullshit. The fact is, all it is about is making it easier for other people to manage us. Doesn't it occur to these people that perhaps we have to manage 'normal' people just as much? If not more? I mean, we're the one's who're swept under the table, committed into hospitals to be put on drugs that I can only describe as sadistic. I think anyone who has been on haloperidol will agree with me. But no, we're inconveniencing to the general public, so we don't mind, we'll put up with this. Do you see how stupid that sounds? And yet, that's how most people see it. We don't speak out because the consensus is that any rebellion against the psychiatric regime is 'paranoid' or 'delusional'. Ironic indeed.

I am fed up. Absolutely fed up. I feel really good about voicing this though. Look inside your souls, those people who have ignorance or even prejudice against people with mental health problems. While you walk blind, others like me can see all too well. And we do not like what we see.

Joe.

Armageddonouttahere

This blog is going to become something less completely surreal, and more based upon reality, albeit with lots of baseless conjecture. Thats how it is people, we're at Defcon 2, so to speak.

Speaking about defcon, I want to talk today about Apocalypse. I think the word 'Apocalypse' deserves a capital letter, if the 'creator' does, I think the end should too. I have no problem with Apocalypse. Indeed, I think we are a doomed race, whatever the fuck we do to try and prevent it. My issue is that the world doesnt stand up against futility. Paradox, sure, but human nature provides us with an in built need to conduct ourselves with combat against our own demise. My worry is that we have become so tied into consumerism, celebrities, even democracy, that we are just too loathe to act on the big stuff, even our own deaths. Doctrine says accept, the government will take care of it. Wrong people. Wrong. If we have one power in charge of a nation, stuff is going to go wrong.

Don't get me wrong. I have a certain amount of respect for our government and what it does. While it does make mistakes, any government does so, and generally in lesser scope than those that get made here in the UK. Truth is, the reason that I got onto this subject was because I'm scared. I'm scared of the future, I'm scared of the apocalypse which I am so sure is coming. I have no faith that the human race will exist in 200 years time. In a strange way though, this gives me a great deal of hope. People need to live life to the full. I think life is an amazing thing, and very mysterious. That something so small can be capable of something so wonderful and kind as say, the saving of another's life, is nothing short of a triumph.

While I have a small amount of faith in democracy, I have a great deal of faith and love for human nature. The love that people can show, and indeed, most people try to show, is what holds this world together. It gives me a lot of happiness. This gives me little hope for the future however, and this is why: the many will always suffer for the mistakes of the few. Love, however hardy, is easily destroyed by fear and hate, and I have no doubt that it will be.

What a lovely post this has been. The message here is not however, "Live in fear!" It is to keep hope, so that those cynical fellows like I can retain our faith in you great people. Thanks for reading.

Joe.

The croissant is a lie...

We regret to inform you that *garbled* blog *beep beep* broken.

Readers will be hacked, and then there will be croissant.

Put the keyboard down, and assume the firewall deactivation procedure...

"I am the human chode, fear me!"
Myself, to Chris.

HE Sense and Sensibility

There be tension in the air.... people have just realised the horrible truth...



"Shit! I have just realised I need to save money for university and that it won't all get paid for by my rich parents! How silly I was, lolololol!"



I've been saying this to people for many months, and people think they'll be fine going to Uni with just the £15.38 they have tucked away in their piggy bank/train that hold money. Sorry guys. Ignorance always comes back to bite you in the derriere.

Halo 3 is out on Wednesday, I'm going tomorrow (Tuesday) night for the midnight release. My mum thinks I'm mad, she's probably right, but that's regardless of any midnight joviality.

Short and sweet. But thats OK. More soon.

"If I didn't know better I'd say that was a horse's willy..."

Myself , to Chris, on Tesco's sausages.