Chereads / The God who blessed me with Schizophrenia / Chapter 2 - My nightmares, schizophrenia and God.

Chapter 2 - My nightmares, schizophrenia and God.

Hello. I'm Dennis. I'm a mental patient for schizophrenia. Well, are you aware of this mental illness? Let me introduce you to this monster as I personally experienced it. Perhaps, you are a parent having been confounded by how your child is acting these past few years. Maybe, he is seclusive sort of afraid of people. Or, he is avoiding social interaction, or worst, avoiding anyone on cognition. He is hiding from people. He only stays within the premises of a room with closed windows and you as parent, though how hardly you don't understand it maximize your effort to help him. I know it's such a difficult time for your family having a schizophrenic under your care especially if he is sort of offensive. Let me elaborate my experience for being schizophrenic as a form of education, and for you to see, which way should have been a better approach.

During the early years of my affliction, I was seclusive. The presence of people around, their stares, or simply, a hint of someone's presence even to a—100 meters away has a great effect in me. It was constraining for me to hide. Thus for 2-3 years I have been hiding. But I won't elaborate on that, not diminishing the fact that abnormal feelings plagued me that whenever it heightens I harbors grave desire to die. During these situations, the pressures usually arouse hopelessness. So you should know that this is an internal matter only you could behold yet not totally comprehending. Empathy is sort of useless whenever it intensifies. The best approach would be medication, prayers and much so, an apt preventive measure, simply, acts of discretion. With the absence of medical attention, it would be pointless to deliver any helping hand as in my case.

Though I was still articulate, but there are main parts of my suffering that cannot be articulated thus I suffered in silence, never able to be expressive about it. One of my main symptoms was repulsion. There was internal difficulty, one of the things I cannot explain, that caused me to repulse people. Not hatred, nor resentment of course. It was a feeling of repulsion—an internal oddity, that even my families I cannot tolerate to live close by thus I was living in a more distant house. It was an internal difficulty. Like the repulsion of a magnet, I have to stay farther though such was past but still, it has left overs and episodes. If by any means, that I was put in a situation where I cannot move farther from a person, I would have internal suppression. I cannot swallow, I cannot move and then eventually, producing involuntary and offensive neck ticking outputs. It was all battery and, friction with the people around, so as I perceived. Could it be delusion or reality? I cannot tell.

Not to mention that I have paranoia and delusion and tormenting voices in the head. These all in all sums up my main symptoms as working forces that dragged me to nowhere but nightmares—fear. There is twisted perception of the surrounding, often, in bristles of fear, often demonic sense.

Now, let me tell you about how it has heightened to one of its climax, paramount for me to have turned "taong—grasa". I was taking Leponex for medication for more than 10 years, but then I decided to stop. It was ineffective anyway. Delusion heightened, voices in my head maximized—more than 10 voices. Initially, I believed people are trying to intervene with my thoughts through radio waves that is radar. I researched online about it and it kinds of supports my suspicion that people are focusing radio waves on my brain to communicate telepathically with me such as how world war 2 soldiers did with radar. It was voice to skull procedure, to what intent it would be it alters my perception of reality as delusion was an inextricable factor with it. That was my impression—or rather, delusion. I was hearing voices non-stop and it has some internal compulsion to believe them, so as how delusion intervenes all the time. It forces me to believe in that rather twisted reality they wanted me to believe. It was internal compulsion. It forced me to believe whichever the direction of the delusion was, and they were verbally incessant. And it was annoyances. There too, was abnormal cognition along—even, auditory hallucination. I thought people are adversarial on me bec of the result of my being offensive. My sound outputs are offensive, thus even for a mile away, I think cough sounds would affect people as far as 100 meters away, sound outputs from my neck ticking sound are offensive and I felt like I heated the community with deadly anger. Chainsaw sounds, spits, gunshots etc… are always my daily beatings and they were hateful towards me, I felt the friction. I was in constant fear always suspicious of people. Loose thoughts are concocting stories that eventually are realities to me, along these auditory hallucinations that cropped up continuously. Invasive as they were, it was credible. I was hearing my father under hostage situation screaming in pain and it was in my cognition that he was being tortured. I could imagine all horrible torture methods they did on him. Chainsaw sound would indicate him being amputated. He was screaming in torment. Thus I run away from home trying to evade this nightmare. Farther away, I was having auditory hallucination of our house being invaded and taking my mother and sister as well. It was night time and in the dimness, I find route to the national road plagued by abnormal feelings I cannot expressed. There was blood on the pavement as though someone was driven over or it was intentionally spilled. I believed it was my family. A motor passed by having a limp lady as passenger, being brought to the morgue. I believed it was my sister. Then a container van stalked me. I believed it was them. It was constant on fear, hovering like a dark mist—and brushes of fear in my chest. That was how I become a drift wood, vagrant and stowaway. That was my first time to have been outdoors after more than 10 years and as far away as it was, walking to the city for 3 months and wallowing around the city for 4 months always under surveillance of the radar people, being stalked by people or cars or vans or trucks. I tried to report this to the police about the radio waves assault on me, but it was unsuccessful.

You have to understand that the world I lived in was interactive with regards to a purely internal world living under the directives of the delusion—and voices. My cognition, perception and awareness were on fear, primarily on gruesome death and killing procedures on my family. For example, the delusion was on my family being hostage and I was suspicious on anything, cars, vans, building, people, sound etc… if the delusion suggest that my parents were delivered to a building, I would think of any metallic sounds from therein as clinical utensils, and I would believe they were chopping them off piece by piece. That would be to me a reality. Or if I see a asphalt mound on the roadside, I would believe my parents were buried in there, and always the brushes of fear was maximal. This is my schizophrenia, an out-of-reality cognition and primarily founded on fear. Everything, such as cars, people, event or sound was interconnected forming my belief in an out-of-reality nightmare, but for me, this is real.

Through the 7months of my homelessness I was consistently walking and walking around and always hungry, searching for food from everywhere, garbage bins most of the time. My cravings for food never diminishes as scarce as it was, I was helpless. Perhaps, for that 4months of roaming around, I have gone through all parts of metro manila. I endured three typhoons sheltering uncomfortably on building covered fronts. Thrice beaten and mauled by unconcerned people, including a policeman as I was taken in custody bec of trying to open a car as directed by the delusion.

Life has been always a misery—nightmarish as bedrock, relentless, primarily, to make me less of a human. Once I tried to commit suicide. I drank all of my medicine for the purpose of overdose but it was unfruitful. Death should have been a most deserving reward, but god has other plans.

Are you a parent? Having a lost son you would do extra measures to find him, including consulting diviners and spiritists, tracking his whereabouts but eventually you would surrender upon futile endeavors. It was so with my parents. But the thing that might have been effective was employing a prayer group. Miraculously, I find the way out from the city. Sort of miracle, right? Were prayers heard, perhaps? I wasn't lost. I re-tracked back home. Later on, my medication commenced for good.

I survived bec of faith. It is the power of survival, especially for the afflicted to have it in himself such as I did. Faith was always in me, much so, prayer was always the best approach. And prayer was their best instrument.

Folks, this is part of my story. I intend for you to have an overview on what might have been happening to your son or daughter or any close figure, and much to my emphasis would advise you on one thing. May faith, prayers and love for god be your best approach and beside this, medical attention. I'm taking now 600mg of amisulpride, and for 4 years I have remission with few episodes of relapse. So I'm okay now and as proudly as I may say, I have been faithful.

For the afflicted, may god looks upon you, too. I empathize.