“What is it like to be insane?” she asked.
“Medicated or unmedicated?” he replied.
“Well both, I suppose.”
“Unmedicated, it is pure hell, an unadulterated pain from which there is no remittance. You are a lone gazelle, being hunted by a pride of fiery lionesses, eager to feed themselves and their hungry cubs. You go left, then right, then left again. They are all around you; there is no escape. Panic strikes as the countdown to your death begins.
“But then, like an accidental lightning strike, a park ranger arrives and fires two shots into the air, scaring the hunters away.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“Then the ranger aims his rifle — at you. And, looking at the ranger with pleading eyes, you wait…eternally frozen, for a shot that will never be fired.”
“Same thing, except they only want to maim you.”
March 15, 2004
My life is far from perfect. My recovery is still only partial. I still rely on meds and therapy (and probably will for the rest of my life). I still have good days and bad ones. And, so far anyway, I’m still fairly limited as to what I can do socially and occupationally/educationally. I hope to improve, but I have to be honest and tell you that, while I feel I’ve made great strides, my recovery has not been anywhere near complete (100%).
Like I said in a post I put up earlier (last year, I believe), I have a lot to prove to myself yet.
Take care and best wishes…
P.S. Also, to give you a frame of reference, I’m 41-years-old. I’ve been in therapy since I was 26 (15 1/2 years as of this post), and I’ve been fighting and recovering from this disease since I was at least 11 years-old…probably earlier than that. Not saying that your loved one (or you) will have to work that long to get markedly better, because you may not. The meds are better than they were 15+ years ago, and early detection along with more awareness as a society is helping. Oh yeah, and my psychiatrist recently told me to hang in there…even better meds are on their way! YAY!!