Seasonal Aspects of Mental Illness and My Working History With Mental Illness

Posted on July 5, 2017 by alifeofmentalillness

I’m adjusting nicely to the summer. Traditionally summers have been my roughest times of year. I would usually be more paranoid and irritable than usual this time of year. I could usually count on at least one psychotic breakdown every summer, usually in late August or early September. Both times I went to the mental hospital were in early September. So there is a seasonal aspect to my schizophrenia. Having dealt with this illness for close to twenty years I have figured out that there are times of year that are worse than others. July and August are always tough. The holidays season can be tough unless I avoid crowds and lots of stimulation. Winters and springs are always pleasant and productive times for me. I do a great deal of writing and reading in the winters and springs. Spring has always been a favorite time of year for me.

But this summer so far I’m doing well. I think it helps that I usually spend a lot of time out of the heat and avoid stressful situations and people. Granted this means a pretty lonely stretch of the year where I don’t socialize much in person. Yet, I still keep in contact with family and friends via phone calls and internet. Facebook is a large means of promotion for this blog.

As it is, I don’t have a regular job. Haven’t for five years. Before I decided to devote myself to this blog and being an advocate for the mentally ill who couldn’t speak for themselves, I worked a variety of jobs. Over the years I have worked as a salesman, a teachers’ aide at a small university, a factory worker, a janitor, a loading dock employee, a fast food cook, a waiter, and a tutor. Even though this blog doesn’t even break even, I consider it the most rewarding job I ever had. I have gotten many dozens of comments that have stated that I am helping them or helping them understand loved ones with mental illness problems. I have been doing this blog for over four years, which is as long as I held my longest job. Used to be I’d get serious anxiety attacks before I went to work and even while I was at work. Many of these would be bad enough that I would vomit before I went into work. After years of fighting these anxiety issues, I decided that working a traditional job wasn’t in my future. I thought I needed to change course because I was making myself miserable over minimum wage jobs and dealing with rude and unreasonable people. I have a few horror stories from my time working in retail and fast food. I’m sure most working in these industries have far more. As it was, I came to the conclusion that regular work wasn’t worth it anymore. It it wasn’t for Disability Insurance, I would either be homeless, in prison, or dead. So it bothers me anytime someone talks about wanting to eliminate these programs. What kind of “advanced” civilization doesn’t care about the weakest and most vulnerable among their citizens?

I did not end up on disability by my own doing or choice. I originally went to college with the idea of going to medical school and becoming a medical research scientist. But my problems with mental illness got so severe in college that I had to change paths and even take a semester long break. I finally graduated with a business degree. The reason I chose business was that I wanted to be employable as soon as I left college. Even though I love writing and reading, I had heard horror stories about liberal arts majors working minimum wage jobs because they couldn’t find work in their fields.

It turned out that I’m grateful I didn’t succeed in sales or find a banking job like I thought I would after graduation. I know now that I would be miserable wearing a suit and dealing with people day after day. At least with a blog I don’t even have to leave my living room. No shirt, no shoes, no problems I suppose in my chosen field.

In closing I’m doing well despite it being a traditionally rough time of year for me. I think the medications changes I undertook a few weeks ago are working. And after twenty years of mental illness, I have figured out that there are some things that can make even tough situations much more bearable.

I Enjoy Adulthood Even With Mental Illness

Posted on May 14, 2017 by alifeofmentalillness

I must admit, I love being an adult. I love the freedom involved. I love having my own money and getting to decide how I get to spend it. I love that I don’t have to answer to authority figures I didn’t choose. If a boss was giving me static at a job, I could always look for a different job. If a landlord was giving me a hard time, I always had the option of moving to a different place. I love that I can do things like vote and go to casinos. I enjoy that I don’t have to feel guilty for expressing my opinions and having my likes and dislikes. I like that I can read whatever I want. I love having privacy. I enjoy not getting yelled at for trivial things like when I was in school or living with my parents. I like the fact that I can avoid people who give me too much static. When you are in school, you just can’t avoid bullies or sadistic teachers. Sure I’ve had bosses and coworkers who were jerks and whiners, but at least I had the option of finding another job if I didn’t connect with said bosses or coworkers. Changing schools is a lot tougher.

Even though I have been living with schizophrenia since at least age seventeen, I have found that it is getting easier to work around it the older I get. The bad periods don’t last nearly as long nor are as intense as they were in my early twenties. In my late 30s, I have come to the realization that I don’t have to be defined by what job I have or if I have a wife and kids or not. I am not my job. I am not less of a human being because I am not married. Sure I still deal with people that tell me “mental illness is fake” or that “you’re not a real man.” But as an adult it is much easier to blow those jerks and losers off and ignore them. You think I’m faking mental illness, then screw you. It’s not my job to meet your standards. It is so much easier to not be bothered by criticism as a 36 year old than when I was 21. I just hope that the older I get, the symptoms will become even less severe and I will care even less about naysayers and idiots.

I still isolate a lot and avoid socializing with my complex mates. But I think I’m more mentally stable because of said lack of socializing. When I was a kid people used to tell me I was being “anti-social” and had “attitude problems” because I didn’t like going to high school sporting events and county fairs. There really wasn’t much to do in my farming village besides school events, church activities, and county fairs. There was only one movie theatre in a fifty mile radius from my hometown. I didn’t enjoy watching people throw balls around much as a kid. As an adult I really don’t have to feel guilty for not watching such things. I do watch some college football and basketball tournaments just to give myself something to talk about with other people. Most people still don’t like discussing science and technology in casual conversations. But I haven’t been to any sporting events in person besides minor league baseball games in almost five years. And I don’t feel the least bit guilty or anti-social because of it. And as an adult I have these options. That’s more than I had as a kid.

I don’t really understand people who are nostalgic about their youths or the past. I might be a little nostalgic about growing up if I had more friends, was bullied less, and wasn’t so much of a social misfit in my school. I am kind of nostalgic about my college years because I knew lots of smart people, had lots of interesting conversations, could do things at the spur of the moment with no planning, could study what I felt like studying, and had the legal rights and responsibilities of adulthood. College was much more stimulating and enjoyable than grade school or high school. Sure I never got to use my degree in a job, but I blame the schizophrenia for that completely. And I am grateful everyday I can keep in contact with old friends through Facebook.

I love living in the here and now of May 2017. Sure getting to this point was rough dealing with schizophrenia for almost twenty years. Sure my physical health took a beating because my mental illness and the side effects of the psych medications. But after twenty years of schizophrenia I have figured out how to deal with bad days and psychotic breaks. I have also learned how to enjoy the small things of life more than many of my mentally stable friends and family. Happiness for me is watching a sunset, or eating chicken wings at a sports bar with college friends, or seeing my niece and nephews for a few hours, or talking with my parents about history or technology, or reading internet sites like futurism.com or bloomberg.com about trends in science and current events. I had my ups and downs with schizophrenia. I had many breakdowns when I took a lot of grief out on my parents and friends. Fortunately those breakdowns are getting less severe and shorter as I age. I have had to go to the mental hospital twice. But both times I was self committed and my longest stay was one week. I may not be able to hold a forty hour a week job, but at least I tried several different lines of work before I came to the conclusion that traditional employment wasn’t in my future. And it’s not shameful to not hold a full time job, especially if you have a disability or find other outlets to give back to people. I can still drive a car, I can still buy my own groceries, pick up my medications, keep appointments, and more or less live on my own even with mental illness. Some people can’t claim that. In short I love being an adult. And I wouldn’t want to go back to my youth, even though I had more friends and better health in college. Being an adult rocks. It really does.

Problems Socializing

Posted on May 9, 2017 by alifeofmentalillness

Been a few days since I last wrote. But that is mainly because I really haven’t had any real ups or downs. I’ve been quite stable for several days. Haven’t felt any real anxiety or depression for any true length of time. I still spend most of my time alone without much for physical interaction. But I still interact with friends and family via phone calls and Facebook. I don’t mind being alone as much as I used to. It’s a routine that doesn’t cause me stress and anxiety. I just see no need to interact with my neighbors much as I really have no interest in talking about mundane things like weather and complex gossip. I just have no use for that kind of information I can pick up on my own within seconds. I don’t have to rehash the same mundane nonsense over and over again. It bores me and irritates me. I mean, seriously, please tell me something I don’t already know. Or better yet, tell me something that is interesting.

Naturally many people I have met over the years have thought I was aloof, arrogant, and anti social. This is mainly because I have interests outside of my home community, sports, and politics. It was tough growing up in an era before the internet in an isolated village. I was annoyed at how everyone in my village thought my business was their business. This bothered me even in grade school. I had always heard “If you’re not up to anything bad, it shouldn’t matter who knows”. No. Most people I knew and know today are really judgmental of anyone outside of the accepted norm. I am outside of the norm on just about everything. Playing football in high school was probably the only thing I did growing up that many people would have thought normal. No I don’t like mindless chit chat. No I don’t like chasing women. No I don’t like most of what is on tv. There’s a lot of things I like that most people don’t care at all about. I like discussing the possibilities of future science and technology. I like discussing history. I like discussing philosophy. I like discussing classical literature. I like writing. I like reading. It seems that most people I know haven’t read a book since high school. And if any of likes or dislikes makes me appear as an elitist intellectual snob, than so be it. We need more people who try to think rather than just through life sub conscious.

None of these social problems are made easier by having schizophrenia. But at least having mental illness and problems socializing has taught me who is and who isn’t trustworthy. I may not have lots of social contacts, but I do have some amazing family and friends. And in the end, isn’t that what life is all about?

Loneliness

Posted on March 17, 2017 by alifeofmentalillness

I visited with my nephews and niece a few days ago. I got to see my parents too for the first time since Christmas. I had a good time with the kids. They are ages 12, 10, 8, and 5. They are old enough they don’t get into a lot of trouble and can be quite entertaining. Seeing those kids grow up and develop interests and personalities of their own is bittersweet. I am happy that my brother and his wife were able to have several kids, are able to take care of them, and raise them to be respectable and well behaved kids. But it does make me realize some of what I have lost and will never be able to experience on my own because of my schizophrenia.

I have written a lot in the past about alternating between being sad, angry, and depressed about the career and life opportunities I lost in the name of mental illness. I have written much less about being sad and depressed about never being able to marry or have kids. Outside of my best female friend, I really have little experience with dating. I was turned down every time I ever asked a girl out on a date in high school and most of the time when I was in college. By the time I was halfway through college I gave up on the idea of ever marrying because it just seemed like a lost cause and wasted effort. I never could figure out why I did so poorly with women. But I haven’t really cared for years as I know that ship set sail a real long time ago and that I just as well make the best of being single and lonely for life.

For many years I was making the best of it. After seeing some of my classmates go through rough divorces or slog through unhappy marriages, I was grateful I never did marry. But after seeing my brother’s kids mature through the years and come into their own, I am beginning to realize that if children are raised well, they can be the greatest things that ever happened to you.

It wasn’t until a few days ago that I realized just how lonely I am most of the time. I really don’t talk to that many people in person any more. I almost never socialize outside of close family and friends. I still sleep ten to twelve hours a day. I think that is a subconscious way of dealing with the loneliness. I really am lonely most of the time. Have been for the last couple years since three of my older friends in my apartment complex died within six months of each other.

As much as I hated the office politics of a job, at least I was able to find a few moments of joyful interactions everyday with other people. As much as I didn’t like the social aspects of high school, I still had my friends and some friendly acquaintances. I don’t have any of that anymore. I can understand how some people, men especially, lose a lot of joy in their lives and much of their identity when they retire or get laid off from a job. I would consider going back to work except that mentally I’m too unstable and too discouraged to work a traditional job. Besides much of what I could do in a traditional job will probably get automated within the next several years anyway. Perhaps that is why I devote so much time to this blog. It gives me identity and it could be my legacy since I’ll never be able to get married or have kids. Things have often been lonely and discouraging the last couple years. Being mentally ill is a death sentence to anyone’s social life.

Taking A Vacation From The Insanity

Posted on January 31, 2017 by alifeofmentalillness

I’ve been feeling more depressed and frustrated than usual the last few days. I think it’s because I’m spending too much time on sites like Facebook, twitter, and youtube. I’ve decided I’m going to avoid most socializing for the next several days and see if I feel better then. It saddens and angers me that I can’t even have a civil conversation with a friend without having to sort through angry posts and memes. I really hope these people aren’t that mean and angry with people in real life. I hope they aren’t but then again many people have messed up priorities.

I would love to know when my friends and my countrymen became so angry and divided. And why do they feel like it’s a God given duty to spew that venom and hate for the whole world to see. You don’t live in an echo chamber. People who don’t agree with what you post see that stuff all the time. We usually don’t comment or respond. We certainly weren’t this divided in the months after 9/11.

I also don’t understand why my countrymen are so obsessed with politics. People didn’t used to be nearly this obsessed, at least not that I can remember. Believe it or not, there are other things going on in life than politics. Politicians are not gods. I will say that again, politicians are not gods. Stop treating them as such.

I imagine my friends on Facebook get tired of me posting about science and technology. I have only a handful of friends who post on science. But almost all of them feel a duty to do posts complaining about politicians or complaining about protesters or complaining about people who complain about protesters. Protesting, if done properly, can lead to change. Look at colonial America, Ghandi’s India, and the Civil Rights protests. Too bad there weren’t more people protesting the actions of the governments early on in Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia, etc. I am especially disgusted with some states trying to pass laws for harsher penalties for protesters. There wouldn’t be as many protests if the politicians were actually doing a good job. You want to stop protests, listen to the people and quit doing stupid things. Even Jesus protested the abuses and hypocrisy of the religious and political leaders of his time and place.

While I will be going underground and not socializing much for the next several days, I still will be doing research and writing blogs. My critics aren’t getting rid of me that easy. I just have to unplug from the insanity for a few days. Most people need to unplug from the insanity for a few days and realize that someone who disagrees with them is not evil.

Discouragement and Socializing With Mental Illness

Posted on November 1, 2016 by alifeofmentalillness

Been spending much of the last several days watching the World Series and football games. As far as my hopeless addiction to watching sports on tv is concerned, October is traditionally the happiest time of year for me. But all in all it’s been an uneventful fall. The weather is starting to cool and I haven’t run my air conditioner in almost three weeks. Some nights I even run the heater. We’ve already had a few freezes but no snow yet. In my hometown we usually don’t get our first snow until mid to late November. I still have to winterize my car and restock my emergency winter supplies. It won’t take too much other than a couple trips to the store. It’s just a matter of getting it done.

I didn’t do anything special this Halloween. Some times I like to go to the all night diners to see people in their costumes after the bars close. Some years I help hand out candy to the kids that come to our complex. Didn’t do any of that. I’m still kind of afraid of socializing. If it wasn’t for cell phones and Facebook, I probably wouldn’t have much of a social life. But then again, years ago the only option for someone like me was long term hospitalization.

During the last two weeks I was on higher than usual doses of some of my anti psych medications. They helped take the tension off and knocked down the hallucinations but I did end up less motivated than usual and slept more. I haven’t posted anything to Facebook for almost two weeks. I’m trying to avoid a lot of nastiness and negativity that’s going on lately. I haven’t watched the news in months because I’m tired of the wall to wall election coverage. Even my parents who are hopeless news junkies have been boycotting all news channels just to avoid it all. I thought we were electing representatives and not gods. I have grown to hate politics and I would love to live to see scientists, engineers, doctors, teachers, etc. get the kind of press we seem to have only for politicians and entertainers. It’s probably a pipe dream, but I can hope can’t I?

As it’s been I’ve been depressed and discouraged for weeks. I can’t stand normal conversation and small talk anymore. It’s just reruns as far as I’m concerned. That’s probably why I isolate so much. I just don’t want to rehash politics or sports or the weather anymore. Perhaps I’m too tough on my fellow man because most of what I see is people doing the same stupid things and talking about the same stupid stuff all the time. I might feel different if I lived in a large city with more diversity of thought and culture. I probably would feel different if I didn’t live in low income housing. But it’s not like there’s ever going to be low income housing for smart but eccentric people.

Some people got the idea because I live in low income housing and am on disability that I’m stupid. I’m not. But I will say it has been pretty tough living in low income housing ever since my pastor friend and brilliant but eccentric photographer friend died two years ago. Their deaths have been tough to bear. The intellectual life of my complex took a nosedive since they passed on. Now I pretty much hear people complain about how they don’t get enough in social security money when they buy mostly lottery tickets, cigarettes, and booze with their money. It’s discouraging seeing people do the same dumb things over and over again but never getting the idea. Anyone who ever said there virtue in poverty has never lived in HUD housing. We have the same mix of crooks, losers, cranks, and jerks as every other class of society.

It’s discouraging dealing with dumb and rude people everyday. After awhile I might get jaded and just think that dumb and rude people are all there is. I hope it never comes to that. I wouldn’t be happy as a nihilist. I see the potential in people. I see that my species is making positive changes and scientific breakthroughs on an almost daily basis anymore. I know we can be better than we currently are. I know we can make ourselves more ethical and wiser. I would love to someday live in world where wisdom is as valued as ignorance is now. It just gets discouraging during the day to day grind when it seems like no progress is being made around you. But I guess low income housing is probably going to be the last place in the US that sees any kind of technological progress. We still have people who don’t own computers or have email accounts. I just try to keep reminding myself that progress is happening even when it’s not evenly spread out.

Happiness, Love, and Mental Illness

Posted on October 10, 2014 by alifeofmentalillness

Happiness, Love, and Mental Illness are rather difficult topics for me to write about. Not just because they bring up emotionally difficult concepts, but because it is often tough to explain to other people, neurotypical or not, what these things mean to someone like myself. While I cannot obviously attempt to speak for everyone with a serious mental illness diagnosis, I simply was never mentally hard wired to have a universally accepted definition of happiness. My personal definitions of happiness is “a sense of calmness and peace about myself and my surroundings” and “a state where depression, sadness, anxiety, anger, and stress are not my dominant emotions for any set period of time.” I cannot obviously comment on what happiness means or is interpreted by others, simply because it is impossible for me to get into someone else’s mind and see the world exactly as they see it. I was not made in such a manner as to know what constituted most pleasant emotions such as love, happiness, joy, etc.

Some will no doubt think that my stated definitions of happiness are very odd. Others may even think I am a liar when I state that I literally don’t know what others feel when they are happy. In fact, I usually cannot tell when others are happy. I especially cannot tell when others are happy or pleased with me unless they specifically say so. Even though I have the ability to know how others are likely to act in certain situations, I simply cannot tell what others are feeling. It is impossible for me to read any non verbal queue. The only way I can tell for sure is through their actions. I have a very hard time telling when someone is being deceptive, manipulative, or when a person is being sincere and honest just by their non verbal queues. As I tend to feel paranoid and threatened even on a good day, my usual default mode when dealing with people is the assumption that others are malicious and untrustworthy unless they prove otherwise through their actions and reassurances. The only people I know I am in good standing with no matter what are the handful of people that I’ve been confidants with for more than several years. Growing up with the early stages of schizophrenia that had not made themselves manifest, I never knew with any kind of certainty where I stood with friends, classmates, teachers, adults, and especially my own family unless I was specifically told where I stood. To this day, I just assume I’m out of favor with someone unless I am assured otherwise. To me, that is just as natural as the sky being blue and the sun rising in the east.

As tough as happiness was in writing about, talking about an emotion that is a very tough one for even neurotypicals like love is like climbing Mt. Everest without supplies or a guide. I simply do not understand the neurotypical ideas that are entailed when they state the word ‘love.’ I have no real basis or understanding of the word love. I don’t know how to interpret it from others, I have no built in way to tell if someone loves me (especially if it’s a member of the opposite sex that peeks my interest) and I don’t think I even know how to send out the idea that I love someone. In fact, there really is no hard definition in the English language of the word love. I like how the ancient Greeks had several different words for different types of love. The Greeks had separate words for love between a husband and wife (eros), love for a nation or group of similar people (philios), and unmerrited or Divine love (agape). Having something like that would make things easier for people like me who have difficulties understanding cliches, vague ideas, and things that lack a hard definition.

We live in a civilization that is obsessed with the idea of finding true love and how to preserve such love. Yet there is really no hard and accepted definition of what love truly is. To someone like myself, it is aggravating that there is no hard set definition. It is especially aggravating to me that when I do feel something special for a woman, I have absolutely no sure fire way or instructions as to how to let someone like that know exactly how I feel about her. In the vast majority of cases, what I felt for a girl and what she felt for me where nowhere near close to the same feelings. As a result, I have been on very few dates over the course of my life. With my mental make up being what it is, even though I assume the worst about other people I really don’t know well, the rejection I get from others is still painful deal with. I simply am unable to read non verbal queues. The verbalized ones I do receive, I often interpret in my mind as very likely being far worse then what the person talking with me ever intended. Thus the idea of even casual dating, let alone marriage, scares me so much I won’t even attempt it anymore. It is not within my definition of love or friendship to be in any kind of relationship or partnership where there is any real strife.

People think I’m lying when I say I’ve had friendships that have lasted for around 20 years where I have not even had a real argument with the friend. Others may argue that this a sterile friendship that lacks any substance and character. That is far from the truth. The best friend I currently have, who is by the way a woman I have known since my junior high years, we probably have a better, more fulfilling friendship than most friendships or even marriages could imagine as possible. The only serviceable definition of love I know of in the English language comes from St. Paul’s second letter to the early church in Corinth (2 Corinthians, Chapter 13 I think). Even that wasn’t originally written in English (it was originally ancient Greek) and it was written almost two thousand years ago.

In closing I have much chaos in my mind due to my mental illness. That is why I crave stability and absolutes in my outer life and when dealing with others. Yet, I have rarely found any lasting stability in my relations with other humans. I have certainly never found any stability and absolutes when trying, and failing miserably, when trying to secure the affections of a woman I have feelings for. I have failed so miserably in looking for stability and reason in my dealings with other humans that I have essentially accepted this as a futile and pointless task. And that continues to cause me a great deal of stress, sadness, anger, and strife to this day. As I stated earlier, having such feelings dominate my mental outlook is my standard mode of operation because of my mental illness. By my own definition, I am typically not sensing what I understand to be happiness and certainly I don’t know what it is to feel loved.

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