Schizophrenia- A Story Meant to be Painted

 

This is a story about my Schizophrenia meant to be painted. The years after college   my father passed away on Jan. 2, 2007, due to natural causes and then my sister died the very next day in a car accident on her way to the funeral. I cannot express the pain and anguish that came over me.I suppose all people who are affected by mental illness have that moment when “it” happens—the moment when their condition makes itself known. My moment happened when I was an undergraduate in college. It was in the form of voices, hallucinations and paranoid thoughts that one of my professors was trying to kill me.

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You Really Can Be High-Functioning With A Severe Mental Illness

We are all around you. We are the walking wounded, the invisibly battle-scarred. You see us every day — in the grocery store, at carpool, at school pickup and dropoff, at PTA meetings, at the gym and at work and at the playground. You probably don’t know that we have a severe mental illness.

We don’t plaster in on our foreheads, or go around announcing it. But it’s there. It’s always there. And even as we smile, even as we make small talk, even as we nod along with you; as we raise our kids and do our jobs and have our fun, it’s always there. Always looming. Always dominating everything.

 

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