schizophrenia mental illness

Behind Locked Doors When There Was No Crime

This is a picture of me when I was in my early 20s. I think one of the coolest compliments I ever recieved was when I showed it to a female friend and she said, “Wow, you really had the whole Val Kilmer thing going for you back then.” I suppose I had the advantage of good looks for a time, but there was so much going wrong withmy life. I think at the time I still hadn’t been able yet to be completely honest with my Doctor and I had some misconceptions about trusting a psychiatrist to give me the proper meds I needed. When I look at this photo it makes me a bit sad because I see the torn hand me down jeans, the jacket my brother gave me which was the only decent clothing I owned. The orange sweater is one my Dad gave me from his store of clothes. Around this time I was going to adult high school and met a friend who I still talk to to this day, but I have no real clue as to why it lasted this long. When I look at this photo it doesn’t even seem like me.

So, for a bit of irony I will tell you all Dear Readers that as I write this blog entry I am currently a patient on a psychiatric ward. I have been here a month and tomorrow I am going to go home for the weekend and I don’t have a clear idea as to what is waiting for me. All I really do know is that there is a lifetime of books, comics, video games and two places to sleep (along with a ton of frozen meat that I truly hope is still okay) that will be a great deal better than staying here. When I come back from my pass, if all has gone well I will be discharged. One of the odd things about this stay is how sick I was when I came in and how quickly I came back from it all. I did use some of the advice I put on this blog, but I have been very lucky to have incredibly caring and intelligent staff members to help me through, as well as being in a hospital where no expense was spared to make sure the mental, physical and spiritual needs of the patients have been met.

When I came into the hospital, I was in a serious psychosis. I believed that two men from the building I live in had come to kill me and possibly kill my Dad. It was a completely unfounded idea, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I stood my ground until the police, called by my Dad, came to intervene and get me in an ambulance and on to the hospital. Once I saw the police had come I relaxed almost right away and even talked with one of the officers who had seen me speak at his recruit class. But sadly that was where, for a while at least, that I had my last dose of respect from people who were there to help me. I got to the hospital and I thought that everyone was avoiding me and that I stunk horribly so I asked for a gown and a garment bag and went into the bathroom and changed right while I was waiting into a ridiculous piece of hospital clothing that barely covered me. Then, my old enemies anxiety and paranoia surfaced, along with the psychosis (split from reality) that I was experiencing. For a while I really thought I was going to jail though I had done nothing to warrant it.

After incidents I honestly have very little recollection of, I was sent to the hospital where I am now, but not to the quiet and comfortable ward I am on now, I was sent to the locked ward. I can’t even begin to describe how chaotic places like this can be. I did what I could, drank coffee like mad and read until finally I was put over to this ward. There have been some blips, but not a single fight here on the more stable ward, though for a while I still had ideas in my head that someone had a gun and was going to kill me. As I look back in hindsight, there was actually very little animosity. I mostly keep to myself here and try to read and help others when I can. I have to admit to a healthy bit of fear of some of the others, but as I adjusted even those fears dissolved.

I am wondering what tomorrow will bring. How I will cope with the shock of being home. When I went home the other day on a day pass, it seemed that the building was going downhill. For a while I had thought my only solution was to forget about my apartment and head to BC. After a visit and a talk with my building manager, I really don’t think that will be needed. I just really can’t wait to sleep as long as I want, drink tea when I want and not have to report in to anyone.

Precious Few Moments

The Tower Bridge, London, England (Last Spring)

Hello Dear Readers! Last night was one of my favourite events, “The Edmonton Story Slam” where up to ten writers read their stories (all without censorship) for a shot at a cash prize. I didn’t win like I did twice in 2016, but I had a lot of fun, enough to make the $10 I spent worthwhile. I thought I would share my entry here with you. It is sort of a story, sort of a poem.

Precious Few Moments, Precious Little Time

I once knew a young man who had hope and happiness, to look at this guy you could say he was blessed. But something happened to him left his life in a mess. He was beaten up for declaring his rights, left a bleeding mess, and there were other fights. Now he lives in the streets and begs change to eat, he no longer gets the medicine that once helped him stay on his feet. All of this happened because of racism and hate, and I know there are many more destined for a similar fate.

         I want to tell you a story about what’s going on in this place, about something that not everyone thinks we have to face. It’s about how the world is divided race against race and how these crazy ideas make us look at money and fame and just try to chase posessions and sex and not forgiveness or grace.

         You see we all started out with the same shot at having it all, all of our mothers loved us since we were small. But something went on not long after just being able to crawl, we started to think it was funny when others would stumble and fall.

         This whole idea of laughing at each other’s pain seemed to be wired right into our subconscious brains, but there were a  few who grew and saw that other people’s unhappiness gave us no personal gain.

         So this world that once could have been the perfect place has been overrun in case after case with hate’s prideful, evil, and blood-sucking face. We go to war with our brothers and instead of love it’s the dollar we chase, meanwhile the whole planet could soon be a cold rock lost in space

         I don’t want to tell you there is no more hope, but I do want to say we are nearing the end of our rope. The climate is changing, and the solution isn’t legalizing our dope. It’s in making some changes before we slide down a long slippery slope.

         If we could just join together and do a few things, you would be surprised by the joy and fellowship that it could bring. Not to mention the healing of our planet that would make our hearts sing.

         There has been great people who are already there, people who look at the state of our planet and care. I heard word our oceans are being cleaned up and repaired, that these people are doing so much more than their share. We need to all do just a little, or life will become more than any could bare

         Look now on your neighbors, your co-workers and friends, and realize that on your lead all of this desperately depends. It’s all about sharing and caring and knowing the rewards of kindness will never end.

         A few little things can start mountains to move. Reach out to those who have no more to lose. Let them know they can depend on you, and of course help them understand that they have nothing to prove. There are so many ways to help others and there is no way to lose. When my Dad was a newcomer not so long ago, he wasn’t sure of what all that he could do, good friends and kind people helped him get through.

         So I really have two things I wish we all could each see our way to do. One is to return this planet to what it was like when it was new. Clean fresh air and blue skies, it isn’t impossible for a unified few. We just have to focus on the policies we need to put through.

         Now the next thing really has to do with the first, when I talk about this subject I understand that is is mankind’s curse. It’s war and how there is nothing worse, how it divides people and destroys life, limb, and nature in massive bursts. If we all loved our neighbors and if our leaders spoke with our so-called enemies first, we wouldn’t have to send out men and women to die and destroy huge chunks of our Earth.

         It’s all about love, for those we share this big blue rock in space, it’s all about finding peace in our lifetimes so we can save this beautiful place.

         We may have to sacrifice some money and a few of our toys, but the things we will have instead will be much greater joys. So join me in these dreams to love our planet and our fellow man, and let’s get together to find a way to do what we can. This may be a story, but it’s one laced with words that call us to action. Let’s each do our part, give up the rat race and follow our passion.

         And my friend, the young man who I see on the street? I don’t know what I can do but lay change at his feet. It hurts sometimes that he doesn’t know me after all of this time, to watch a young man throw his life away seems like such a crime.