Madness is a subject that is very personal to me, as it's something I've lived with probably for most of my life, but I was not properly diagnosed until more recently. It has progressed from a bipolar condition to being schizoaffective, following a psychotic break I had about two years ago. I don't believe there's any substitute for lived experience, and so with this essay I endeavor to convey some of that experience and my observations to you, gentle reader. I feel anyone can read clinical accounts of the condition, the sanitized list of symptoms on Web MD or similar, but to actually know what it's like is as elusive as it is interesting, or so it seems to me.
A little bit of background: Schizoaffective Disorder (bipolar type) is a condition that exhibits symptoms of both bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. This group of conditions tends to run in families. The experience and symptoms vary greatly person to person - some researchers think it's a spectrum disorder. I don't want anyone to consider my own personal account to be universal, nor my feelings on it.
For all of the issues with it, one upside is it means I have experience with a spectrum of symptoms to write about. I have experienced manic episodes including manic psychosis, schizophrenic psychosis, mixed episodes, and depression.
People without mental illness tend to think of it exclusively as a disability. Some people with these conditions (though I don't know how many, I have anecdotal information) don't see them as strictly disabilities. I happen to be one of them. I will cover the good, the bad and the ugly here.
First, my favorite: Mania with psychosis. Take some speed, some MDMA and some LSD at the same time and that's roughly the feeling of it. It's a ride. The creativity, the visions, the wonder of it all is just incredible. My best writing has come immediately after this state, when I was still manic but the psychosis had receded. This is an artist's phase - a painter's dream. The downsides are numerous including the extreme irritability that comes with it the rest of the time, the lack of inhibition, and the brain damage. This irritability was damaging my personal relationships and the brain damage aspect was particularly sobering. Medication prevents these downsides, but I lose the artist's state. I miss it dearly. The mania itself is exceedingly pleasant, even euphoric. It's so much fun I let it go on for a week before my spouse checked me into the hospital - before I knew about the brain damage. I wasn't really eating or sleeping though either.
I think that week knocked some things loose in my head, some probably important, but some simply things seized from disuse since childhood. Despite my analytical tendencies I've always been more the creative type than anything, and now I'm more creative than I used to be generally but far less perspicuous in my thinking. It's a trade I'll take, as I'd much rather find a new idea or a good question to ask than be able to perfectly deconstruct and analyze details. I'm not afraid to explore even the patently impossible, like magic, to see if I can mine some utility out of it. I've really taken to heart the idea that everything is exactly as useful as you make it.
On to a less pleasant topic, the schizophrenic delusions and psychosis: First of all, it's an inexplicably popular misconception that schizophrenia has something to do with multiple personalities. It does not. It is not some sort of Jekyll and Hyde condition. What it is - or rather feels like, is a bad acid trip. It's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas without the drugs. There is a profound paranoia that just wells up and knots in the gut. At points I thought my husband, and best friend since childhood was trying to starve and poison me. I saw "bad magic" everywhere, and "the night people" who could be anybody and whose goal was to "sanitize" human beings of their essential humanity - creating more "night people", which is a whole lot creepier than it sounds when you're under the thrall of that paranoia, especially when they're out to do the same to you. They were an essentially malicious enemy I would ascribe almost arbitrarily to potentially anyone I encountered - basically anyone I didn't like the look of. It was as terrifying as it was irrational.
Even medicated, I still have the paranoia but it has nothing to "attach" itself to since I no longer have the delusional thinking that goes with it. It's just free floating fear, but it tends to center itself around people. To this day I feel people watching me all the time when they aren't. I tend to think of people as default hostile, and I avoid encounters with people I don't already know. This comes out as agoraphobia apparently - according to my latest psych eval. I guess it makes sense, as I'm holed up most of the time these days. Anti-anxiety meds don't seem to help, but indica strains of pot take the edge off. So do cigarettes.
Finally, this is the crippling part of the condition that comes with the schizophrenia symptoms: The loss of executive function, short term memory, and various other cognitive impairments. These conditions are degenerative which makes them particularly scary - especially when they use terms like "premorbid IQ" in the studies. For all its faults I've always felt blessed for the mind I was born with, and I hate to see it so damaged. Everything from switching tasks to keeping track of mundane things like chores and hygiene are a challenge. I can still write software, in some ways better I think in terms of being more creative, but I cannot manage my time or my tasks so I cannot do so professionally anymore. In fact, my psychs have been surprised I am still working at all. Many if not most people with these conditions do not. It also wreaks havoc on my sleep patterns. I can't get more than 4 hours at a time regardless of what I do. Apparently that's neurological. I find myself in a dark house for much of my day, which makes my mornings challenging. Waking up to the sunshine is something I never thought I'd miss.
All in all I have been fortunate as I have very understanding and supportive family around me, which is great, because these days I need those close to me to have lot of patience. Sometimes I feel like a burden and that's difficult, but therapy helps, and so does the love I'm surrounded with. I wish more people in my position had that. It keeps me saner than I otherwise would be, I think.
I wrote this piece in hopes to give some personal insight on madness that one can't readily find in the sterile pages of the DSM. I don't need condolences pity or even sadness on your part. It's wasted emotion. I am honey the monster and I'm mad as hatter, and I'm okay with that. It's a challenge but nothing I can't handle. Instead, I simply hope you have found some value or curiousity in my account of all this.
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