Some background... my son was diagnosed with Schizophrenia last winter. He had just turned 20 years old. The prime of his life and this nasty mess took him down so fast.. like he was weak...but he wasn't weak - he was strong and alive.. During the past 9 months, he has been reduced from an intelligent kid with the most sharp wit and clever sense of humor... and such promise for a successful future to a walking shell of a person that lives between his room and his car - where he smokes and listens to music - day in day out. No friends, no fun, no ambition, no motivation...the only goal to eat and smoke and play on the computer. No life.
He has struggled with substance abuse for 5 years now. That was something we tried to deal with - and we thought we were making headway with that disease when this sneaky mental illness struck him down. From November 2010 to December 2010 he spent over a month in a state mental institution while I read everything I could about Schizophrenia and educated myself for the fight ahead when he was released..(I say "I read" and "I educated myself"..because I was alone in that. My husband was struck down with denial and he's always BUSY...so busy with work and his responsibilities there.. and so..as it goes with our life he constantly just coasts along and lets it happen without thinking ahead or preparing - that thinking and preparing becomes my job - I have seen this quirk in him many times before through the years and it's grown into resentment with me because how many times do I have to be in the shit alone?)... one more thing that makes me feel it's MY battle to fight alone..I face facts...that's how I deal with situations..I like to use my hopeful magical thinking and try and adjust my thoughts...but in the long run that's just my secret fairytale I keep inside as a coping mechanism...on the outside I stick to reality and getting ready for all the "what ifs" that I may have to handle..... We picked Zack up in late December after the hospital discharge meeting and left with hopes of healing his damaged mind and soul and regaining our son.. and repairing our broken relationship. All this a week before Christmas...we were so thankful and grateful and we had such high hopes. (well I was and I did) However....that healing and repairing was not to be....
Zack came out of the hospital with his own hope but also his own ideas.... he IS a substance abuser.. a determined one. He continued to use anything he could get his hands on and the mix of anti psychotic meds and street drugs has taken a huge toll on his recovery over the past 8 months. As a matter of fact recovery isn't something we've experienced. There has been a steep decline. We've seen several psychiatrists and therapists. He was hospitalized for a week in June for trying to electrocute himself...(you can find out a variety of ways to kill yourself if you just google... and with his damaged mind he rationalized electrocution was his best available option from that google search)... I found all this out at a psychiatrist appointment when he just casually mentioned trying this technique a few nights before.. he felt like suicide was the only way out of his current mental torment. At that time he was having visual hallucinations about bugs everywhere and in his food and drink and he couldn't eat, drink or sleep....so, he googled for ways to do away with himself. From that disturbing doctor appointment I drove him straight to the Hospital Emergency Room where a new surreal experience awaited.
For some reason - obvious or not - there is a lot of shame associated with mental illness... I had to keep checking my son in at various in-take stations... and always they wanted to know the nature of his visit to the ER... "he is schizophrenic and having hallucinations" I'd try and say as quietly as possible each time...I was nervous any time I had to speak to somebody - worried they'd draw conclusions or respond carelessly to my words... I felt on the breaking point each time I had to repeat myself. I was lucky - they all heard my whispered explanation and took it as simple fact no questions asked and no pity. I managed to just be cool and calm like I do this every week...and thankfully did not cry...I think if I would have started to - and let any of the turmoil and fear I was feeling out, I wouldn't have been able to stop...it would have been a mess and I needed to be strong for my son. I don't have a lot of trips to ER under my belt..so not sure if it was because he is mentally ill...but they kept a security guard or two with him at all times...this could have been awkward but the guards turned out to be two very kind older gentleman - retired cops - that gave the easy friendly impression that they've seen it all and we were nothing strange. They chatted and talked to my son like he was normal... and that the bugs he was seeing weren't something odd....or creepy...the security guards kept me company and even brought me a sandwich and soda...along with comfort and conversation and made the waiting hours pass quickly.
Directly from that ER visit, my son was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a week stay..... then due to a system that doesn't work well for the mentally ill - or in their best interest... he was prematurely released from the hospital, and back to using drugs and sliding farther down hill within days of his release. Along with that premature release from the hospital came an idea in his broken brain that because they didn't force him to stay and get treatment they thought he was "fine" and doesn't have any problems. I'm the one with the problem... I am the "crazy witch" making things up to cause him trouble.... The doctors don't seem to care so why should he take this disease seriously.... the mental illness OR the substance abuse. They let him out....and they let him down.
That was in June. July continued with him doing drugs... cough medicine... you can buy it cheap at the dollar stores... he googled to find out just the exact amount to take to get you that perfect high. Then with the trips to the tobacco shops for his cigarettes, he picked up a new habit - drug of choice, "spice"....lab created marijuana. It's illegal... but the companies slap a "Not for human consumption" sticker on it and there ya go... it's for sale as potpourri or incense...but the kids know how to use it. The jury is still out on this one... it causes a high but it's not even known if the damage it causes to a brain is permanent or not. I'd say from where I sit, it is.
Lately we've discovered cash missing.... that's something that can be iffy..Usually I'm not sure how much I have in my purse...but the other day I knew I had a $10, $5, and four singles... come to find out my $10 and $5 disappeared. Then the next day... my car alarm went off as my car was parked inside the closed garage...but who comes strolling into the house from the garage while I was gathering up my keys to run out and adjust the alarm... my son. He told me he was just "walking by" the car when the alarm suddenly went off. I'm sure he set it off trying to steal any cash from inside my car....so with suspicions raised we did a little search and took inventory... all the change is missing from around the house... and we also just discovered to our great distress...that my husband's coin collection is gone. I'm sure as time goes by we'll discover more cash or items missing, too..stolen for drug money or pawned for drug money. We've tried to be so careful on the cash we've given him - well this is how he's gotten by and stoned and defeating any recovery we've hoped to gain... even though we've been cautious a drug abuser will find a way....and all the while, he's been getting high, he's been ruining his brain.
Recently the anti psychotic meds are no longer working.... he is hearing and conversing more and more often with the mystery in his mind. Sometimes I am even afraid. I wonder if he is....
Tomorrow he starts a group with "Family Services"....not sure where this will lead but it's a new direction and that does bring me a new dose of hope. Hope that was fading and desperately needed...so I am praying this "Family Services" can be a positive in all this negative facing us. Last Thursday when I left there, after a productive meeting with a new therapist, I felt like a load had been lifted from me. I guess I am grasping onto anything that may seem like a lifeline. I have to continue to dig and try to find hope mixed in with this wreck...Many times I just want to go to bed and cover up and say "I QUIT!"...but what exactly can I quit? What about quitting will make me feel better? How will covering up and hiding help anything? I wish I knew....
My son will be a part of a group from 930 am to 230 pm daily Monday thru Friday. I don't know anything about what the group consists of because they gave the information TO HIM (because he's an "adult")..... and he left it behind. (because he's irresponsible and mentally ill and pretty much doesn't care about anything) But at least he will be out of his room for a few hours and maybe for those short hours my thoughts won't torment me with crazy guilt that he's alone in his room....rotting.... alone in a mysterious world that I cannot reach or understand... and that today my son is not my son.....
To Be Continuted........
Josie 3, Zack 12, Lucy 6 yrs old
Zack was their beloved older brother
Zack was their beloved older brother
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