My First Extreme Encounter: A Long Story

The very first time I became psychotic was in September 2005.  I had just begun a job working in a call center as a Customer Service Rep.  The systems we were learning to use were complex, and we had many functions to perform in our job.  I was great at multi-tasking, but had never done this type of work before.  During this time, Hurricane Katrina hit and I was overwhelmed with grief over the suffering of all those people in Louisiana.  I was going through a very rough break-up.  My uncle was fighting colon cancer. My car needed to be repaired.  I had bill collectors harassing me.  Spiritually, I wasn't were I thought I should be.  Times were TOUGH, but I was determined.  This job was going to help me take care of my financial troubles and get me to where I wanted to be.  Little did I know that I was about to implode, emotionally.




One day, after training class, I stayed back to get some extra time with the systems.  I just remember being completely frantic about getting them down.  I was sweating and my heart was racing, but I didn't realize I was having a panic attack.  All I could focus on was learning that system so I could keep my job.  After I got home, I decided to call H.R. and ask them if I could start with the next training class.  I really needed a break.  I could feel that I was just too overwhelmed and feeling depressed.  I had never felt this way before.  They understood my situation and agreed to give me some time.




A few weeks later I started back training.  I was still stressed, but I didn't feel as bad.  I was still frenzied and sweating, but I began feeling like maybe there was an undercover officer in our midst.  My "logic" was telling me that the company was going to weed out the people who are criminal.  I believed that we were being deceived, and I didn't like it.  Of course, I was becoming delusional and paranoid, but I didn't know that.  I felt that I had sufficient evidence to believe this.




Things got worse when we began testing for competency.  I began speaking my thoughts out loud and saying what I didn't mean.  My mind was going hay-wire.  I held it together as best as I could, until we began our regular shift.  We were expected to do so much with so little time.  I was stressed out beyond belief.  I began smoking, drinking 32 oz coffees, and eating junk food to find some relief. I knew that I shouldn't be doing these things, but I did it anyway.  I had committed myself to eating healthy and treating my body well, but I was betraying myself.  On a break, I went to the ladies room and these words came to me: "Don't be like the children of Israel.  When I deliver you from your bondage, do not go back for it."  I didn't hear an audible voice, but I understood the message from Torah/ Old Testament scripture.  I figured that this was about my relationship, eating habits, and lifestyle choices.  I disregarded the warning.  After I went back to my shift, I decided to tell my Supervisor about what I what was going on with me.  He escorted me to H.R. where I was told I needed to undergo a drug screening.




When I began the job, I was transitioning in the Jewish lifestyle - keeping the traditional Shabbat/Sabbath, dietary requirements, etc.  When the time came for scheduling, I conceded and told them I could work Friday evenings and Saturdays.  So, as I sat in front of the H.R. administrator, whom had recorded my schedule, I began to break.  I knew my car probably wasn't going to make it anywhere, but back home.  I began to come undone.  My mind was on not having an accident in my car and my not having honoring God's commands.  On top of that, I couldn't do what they wanted me to.  Instead of being sensible, I blurted out, "This is where it all started!"  I took the paper for the drug screening and left.  I went straight home.




I knew they probably wouldn't let me keep my job, so I didn't plan  to show up the next day.  That evening, I decided to take a dvd back to the video store.  As soon as I was backing out of the drive-way, upon hearing my grinding brakes, I remembered I really shouldn't go.  The garage door was going up.  As I inched toward the door and tapped the brake, the pedal went to the floor.  I went full force through the garage door and into the garage, crashing into a platform.  It was a close call.  There is a chain link fence closing off a retention pond on the opposite end of my drive-way!  I was in such a state of shock and panic, I didn't know how to use the Emergency brake.  I could have drowned. What if I didn't hit the platform, I could have taken out the laundry room and kitchen, and  been seriously harmed.  I could not be anymore chaotic.  My parents were relieved that neither the latter or the former had happened.  All they asked was that I payed the deductible to get all the damage fixed.  I cried myself to sleep.




The next day my job called and asked me if I was going to come in. My parents informed them of what had happened.  I was told that I could catch the bus and was given instructions on how to calculate the route.  I didn't go.  That night I got a very bad feeling and asked my mom if my uncle had died and no one wanted to tell me.  She said, "No."  The next day, I got a call that my uncle had died the night before.  I started freaking out!  He was sick for a long time... I was freaked out that I knew he had departed.  I believed that I was having a supernatural experience. I didn't know what to do.




I began receiving what I thought was messages through television  programs.  It was as if my life was being narrated by different shows, and I was being shown the error of my ways.  I saw that I was carrying emotions on my head in a basket.  There were other things but it's redundant to mention all the hallucinations.   I began to develop insomnia.  I felt like there was a satellite watching me inside my house and was tracking me so that they could send a signal to terminate my life.  I thought this because, I believed they knew I had tapped in to the supernatural and it is a powerful gift.  I was terrified.  I stopped eating and drinking.  I don't know how long this went on, but it couldn't have been longer than a couple days before my mother noticed I wasn't going to the bathroom.  I thought that I had died and come back to life, and my parents were replaced by alien clones.  I thought I was living in the age of the Apocalypse.  That evening, my mother and father rushed my reluctant self to the Emergency Room.  All the while, I was thinking that something terrible is happening and I shouldn't be outside.  At the hospital, I thought the other patients were suffering injuries from demons that were attacking people.  I heard voices saying that they were going to break my legs and do all other kinds of terrible things.




I don't remember the nurses hooking me up to an I.V., but they did.  I just remember eating a graham cracker and drinking some apple juice.  I felt that the nurses were Satan's helpers and they were going to usher me into hell.  The took me for an M.R.I. and then put me in an ambulance for the Mental Hospital.




When I woke up the next day, I didn't know where I was.  I thought I was in a group home or maybe prison.  I thought maybe I had done something wrong and was going to get the death penalty.  My hands were perched by my sides as if shackled.  I couldn't help it.  I was so  terrified that I couldn't even speak.  I had become catatonic.  I didn't eat for many days and needed to be bathed.  It was utterly HUMILIATING. I was not present, within myself, for a number of days.  I was told that when I was awake I was totally expressionless.  After a few weeks they tried to send me to the State Hospital, but my mother plead with them and pledged to see me through recovery.  Every day was a living hell.  I was still hearing voices and being delusional.  My mind was flooded with all kinds of strange thoughts and I was living in an alternate reality.  I spent 3 months there.  Not once was I given a psyche evaluation.  None of the drugs they were giving were helping.  I felt like a zombie.  At the end of the 3rd month, I went into the group counseling meeting.  A young woman talked about how she had been sexually abused by a family member.  She vowed that God will still get the glory from her life.  After seeing her faith, I began to confess that I needed to give God the glory that is due to Him and stop being so selfish with my life.  That is when I became better.  My posture changed.  The terror of delusions and voices left.  I began to eat, bathe, and groom myself.  By the end of the week I was given my medications and discharged.  I was told the Dr.'s were unable to find a diagnosis.




After a few days of the meds. I couldn't take them anymore.  I was so dizzy.  I felt better without them.  I was still a tad delusional after I got home - I felt like everyone at the store knew what I had been through and was mocking me - but that faded in a few days.  I became depressed, but after a few weeks that went away too.  I figured I just had a nervous break-down and I would be fine, eventually.   That's we all thought.

Before and After: Life Without Medication

I was recently - last year - diagnosed with schizophrenia.  It's been difficult to cope, especially since I've decided to stop taking the medications; but I'm doing what I have to do.  I'm trying to learn how to deal with all this, and still be functional.  I've lost friends and acquaintances because they don't understand and have no desire to know what's been happening.  This disease has stolen from me the life I once had, and has caused me much grief.  I'm determined to find a way to regain some normalcy.

Being schizophrenic is HORRENDOUS.  I was taking several medications, but all they did was make me hungry and tired all the time.  I'm 5'4 and I went from 175 pounds (size 12/14) to 250 pounds (size 22/24) in 6 months.  That's UNACCEPTABLE.  I had begun developing dry patches of skin on my face and body.  My hair became very dry and brittle, breaking off.  My decision to cease medication was a result of these side effects.

It's hard to remember what life was like before the illness.  I know I was VERY driven.  I enjoyed going places, meeting people, taking long bicycle rides, going to the gym, working, going to school, etc.  These days I'm usually alone in my room, except when it's necessary to leave.  I don't enjoy meeting new people.  I wish I did, but I really don't.  I put on a smile and greet people, but have no desire to let them get close to me - it makes me very anxious, to say the least.  That's why I don't go to the gym anymore.  I feel like a child who needs someone to lead them around.  It's TERRIBLE!   

Wellness was something that I really was into.  I only took medications as necessary and was learning more about holistic health and wellness.  I was studying to become a Massage Therapist when I became sick.  I was planning to complete my education by becoming a Counseling Psychologist.  Isn't that ironic?

Sometimes it is very difficult to tell reality from fantasy or fact from fiction.  Depression is another part that is SO debilitating - most times there is no motivation at all whatsoever.  Also, it's so hard to focus with so many things going through my mind at any given time.  Paranoia and anxiety are the other afflictions.  Two things make these symptoms worse: Stress and The Menstrual Phase (SMH).  What's a girl to do??

I just want my life back.