At the age of thirty ( I am now sixty), after the birth of my second child, I was diagnosed with a mental disorder. I had thoughts and feelings that I didn’t understand, I knew that they formed part of another me, and I was really afraid.
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It’s been thirty-seven years since I was diagnosed. And things have really changed a lot. I myself have changed. It is not just that medication to deal with a schizophrenic disorder has improved.
I think there is a certain prevailing idea that cannabis and other toxins are not of great importance to our health. Alcohol is consumed on a regular basis by millions of people. And despite all the publicity campaigns, people smoke tobacco with joy.
Anyone who has experienced an episode of depression and even more, the major depression, knows that it often entails the loss of friends, family, affection, work, etc. In a social context where everything must be cool and good vibe, we are considered “Toxic People”.
In the early days when I visited the psychiatrist and the psychologist, I often met a boy in the waiting room of that center. He was called J. and was 20 years old. I was 3 or 4 years older than him. He was dark with straight, medium length hair and tall like me. It was simple. He was distressed when they talked to him for a long time.
I would like to explain why I think psychiatrists haven’t done a good job with me. Why I consider they have arised more problems than those I already had, and turned my life more complicated than it used to be. And furthermore, why I have reasons to think they haven’t used the diagnostic criteria for DSM-IV properly.
Until a year and a half ago I had a more or less stable job, also a more or less stable life, and I had almost always been a person who fought, an enterprising person until the darkness took posses me.
My name is Francesc and the purpose of this article is to make people conscious about how difficult is to live with paranoid schizophrenia, and the different way outs one can find.
In the midst of a long, intense summer, my first outbreak and diagnosis took place. Schizoaffective disorder. Following a hard time with my job and family, just when I felt more peaceful, while I was holidaying with relatives and friends in a campsite by a beautiful beach cove.
Language is important because of it we build thought and choose to see and talk about ourselves in one way or another. And we build from the language, both individually (I talk about myself according to how I perceive myself and others will perceive me as they see and hear me), as on a collective level