Schizophrenia as an Invisible Illness.

 


Every day, we pass innumerable people as we go. Happy, sorrowful, worried, and delighted faces of all kinds are visible. Both fast and leisurely walkers might be seen. We can't tell much about someone's life, what they're going through, their health, or their family issues with a fast glance.

Schizophrenia affects one in 300 persons worldwide. Just like persons with diabetes or those with cancer, people with schizophrenia who are living in recovery (often taking antipsychotic medication) blend in with everyone else.

The amount of people with schizophrenia I encounter who are prospering and leading balanced, healthy lives has astonished me the most over the years. Thanks to consistent medication compliance, their symptoms are in remission or on the verge of remission. I've met folks who work as performers, cooks, nonprofit CEOs, social workers, librarians, and even law students. Despite having been diagnosed with schizophrenia, they lead happy, fulfilled lives. They are a component of the regular activity we refer to as a community. Although they still have schizophrenia, some patients are either completely or almost completely symptom-free (1).

Stigmatization's detrimental consequences on persons with schizophrenia

Unfortunately, the name "schizophrenia" still has a strong stigma that adversely frames and defines how the public views all individuals with the diagnosis. Some individuals might think that because of the stigma associated with schizophrenia, those who have the disorder stand out and could never fit in with mainstream society. Despite extremely important advancements in schizophrenia treatment, the negative and essentially hopeless reputation persists.

My parents were unaware that schizophrenia was the root cause of my issues while I was beginning the first stage of schizophrenia, known as the "prodrome" (see reference 2). My mother had only ever encountered the sickest and most crippled schizophrenia sufferers during her time in nursing school in the 1970s. Medication effectiveness back then was frequently lower than it is now. The earlier medications carried a significant risk of producing tardive dyskinesia and severe Parkinsonian movements, among other involuntary movement problems. The folks my mother encountered in the 1970s who were living with schizophrenia often did not fit in with a crowd. Many people spent their days staring into nothingness or conversing with voices in their heads as they lived in a world of hallucinations.

My behavioral symptoms in 1999, when I was developing schizophrenia, seemed rather normal to other college students. My life was initially out of balance. I was unable to put my job or studies on hold long enough to take a break. I had no true social life and wanted to remain by myself. Then, possibly in part because I was ashamed of my failing grades, I lost interest in maintaining a relationship with my family and withdrew from them.

Later, I learned that my parents thought I was consciously attempting to transition from a lot more reliant child to a much latent teenage period. Overall, I still had a usual amount of interest in my family despite experiencing less of it. My slipping grades were also typical. Burnout is a common occurrence among students, which they ultimately recover from.

Years later, when I was completely cut off from family and untreated, I stood out from society quite clearly. I was living outside in a graveyard. Although it wasn't practical, I used to tell myself that I appeared regular or that I was simply unique. I still wonder how many people saw me as I walked around the university campus community, spending hours in parks and searching for leftover food in the trash. I had such youth. I had been in excellent standing as a student once and was still eligible for college. Some probably wondered why I didn't just find a job. My mind was actually too damaged to perform in any profession or seek assistance. I could not concentrate for even a few minutes because of the obnoxious and distracting voices in my head.

According to stigma, everyone with schizophrenia has active psychosis regardless of their level of treatment. In actuality, there is a distinction between those with schizophrenia who are receiving treatment and those who are not. The majority of social ailments are like this.

Before I released my memoir in 2014, I can recall my time spent in rehabilitation. I had generally kept the disease a secret up until that point. I was just another name in the crowd, returning to college and doing well academically. I got a pretty horrible response and a lack of understanding when I told a few folks I have schizophrenia.

I publicly discuss the realities of my life now in my memoir Mind Estranged, which has given me access to new opportunities both emotionally and professionally. However, a lot of folks who are in complete remission or almost there who I met on my trip are not interested in sharing their experience. They want to get over their schizophrenia and move on. I applaud them for their decision. The decision to disclose one's medical status must be made individually by each person dealing with serious mental illness.

I tell folks the truth: There are schizophrenics everywhere around them when they start their journey through schizophrenia after receiving a diagnosis. There's a chance. Like you and I, many people love their life. They run houses, work, volunteer, and love spending time with family and friends. Today, most patients will recover to some extent, and many will recover totally, owing to advanced therapies and diligent drug compliance.

I am proud of the great individuals with schizophrenia I know because they contribute to society on a daily basis, have fulfilling lives, and benefit from cutting-edge therapy.


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