Category: pain

The human mind is as complex as the universe – man has not discovered a  magical cure or some atypical drug to wipe the slate clean.  Mental illness surrounds us – we see it in the blank faces that have lost touch with reality or what we believe reality should be. Doctors state generally it is a chemical imbalance and when the mind is not in sync it shuts down – producing instead hallucinations both audio and visual; paranoia, and  scattered thoughts that run everywhere but together.  Imagine a car stuck in a traffic stop, cars keep piling up but the driver cannot  find any free lane to cross over to.  It’s similar to the neurons in the human brain – they are stuck in a traffic jam that renders them helpless to leave the car and run for safety.  Each psychotic episode acts like a villain injuring a bit more of that person’s existence.  The future is fragile for the person who has been diagnosed as schizophrenic and for the person that is strongly connected to that person, their future too changes dramatically.  They suffer in a different way than the victim but in many ways they are victims too.

When you love someone there isn’t a switch that can shut down ones feelings , I know first hand that with each year – my son’s illness has done something to me that cannot not be repaired or undone, the scars will always remain.  I know there will be good days for him and those days I bask in my own happiness – but those days always vanish too quickly and I’m left with the uneasy feeling in my heart that doom is near. Call it mother’s intuition but I know when an episode is in the making,  only recently I discovered I never know when it will end.   Each new episode is worst than the one before and I tell myself I’m not strong enough to hold it together but I do – I always find the strength to hold on. God has picked me up when I was unable to take a step.

When I think of the past and contemplate everything that was stolen from him at sixteen I feel a bitterness in my heart swell up and I steady myself for sometimes my rage stares back at my reflection in the mirror.  He was not able to graduate from high school; never went to the prom; never had a chance to date and never knew the magic or passion of falling in love.  I know he would have been a wonderful father because of his sensitivity and love for family.  I know he would have been a good provider because he always worked jobs and knew how to save his money.  I knew in old age I could have depended upon him for comfort – because he always gave me comfort when I was down.  He had a certain confidence that made me think of a much older person – a soul that had been here before.  He was always dependable and was willing to get his hands dirty, tinkling  under hood of a  car; working on his ATV quad or doing housework or yard work.  And he had a special talent that without reading directions he knew how to assemble or put anything together.   Such a special son that I was immensely proud of.

I miss all of this – I miss my shadow – I miss the person that always knew how I felt without me saying a word.  I’m bitter because he lost so much and I’m bitter because his lost was mine too.  I wish he was not locked away in a mental facility as they try to end his psychosis – trying different drugs  and its been nearly three weeks and not any progress. But today I was hopeful after talking with psychiatrist, when he said with emotion, “He suffering so much”.  I had a surge of hope because I knew I was talking to someone who cared and someone who listened to his mother and did not dismiss my words – for I am the voice for my son.