The Love is in The Music : A Person with Schizophrenia Hopes to Help

This was a great discovery for me, and I henceforth began an attempt to discern what people actually were talking about behind their banal conversations. Initially, thinking this way was beneficial to me in my architecture classes, where one analyzed every little detail, but it soon led to great distortions when I began applying it to everyday life.

My interest in magic also led me to search for those rare others who seemed to also use magic or were called wizards or witches. I also began to develop an interest in stone circles, like that of Stonehenge, for I believed that they were a symbol for opening up a portal to a new world, one of magic. Contemporary architecture also interested me, especially the work of Maya Lin because she used some elements of stone circles, and her famous Vietnam Memorial has often been described as a barrier between the world of the living and the dead.

If she could effectively use portals, such as this barrier between worlds, she must know magic as well. One of the biggest distortions in my thinking up to that point occurred one day in my architecture class in Tokyo. My teacher had worn a black outfit, the color of the darker side of humans, with a green scarf that seemed vaguely snake like. Also, from the way she glanced at me during class made it seem to me that she was trying to seduce me.

Not only could I charm people but also I could induce them to have romantic feelings for me. Furthermore, she seemed to have used the same color theory as I to have created such a getup. She could do magic as well! Magic was clearly more common than I had thought. Perhaps, one day, I would be able to learn more of magic from her. It was not long, however, before my magical powers began to run away with themselves. First, in my architecture drawing class, as I began work on some doodle, I noticed that all the girls were looking on me longingly and that the guys were trying to see what I was drawing.

Without trying to, I had single handedly charmed an entire class. Then, in my physics class, my professor, whom I had previously only thought of as a nice, quirky old man, began to use hidden messages in his speech to make a pass on me, in the middle of class no less. Needless to say, I was quite shaken by this development. Soon, being so preoccupied with magic and hidden meanings, I fell behind in my schoolwork and was forced to drop at least one of my classes.

My life and journey with paranoid schizophrenia

I chose physics partly because it was one of my more difficult classes at the time but mostly because I had a lecherous pervert for a teacher. I had also begun to notice that I was being followed. My guess was that the university had assigned bodyguards to protect me because I was such a valuable student with unique magical powers. I needed to know more about magic if I was to save myself from my out-of-control powers.

Thus, I decided to approach my Tokyo architecture teacher in her office hours. There, I spoke to her of my interest in portals and the work of Maya Lin. My teacher also was a great of fan of Ms Lin, and we got along famously, at first anyway. From our conversations, I began to believe that our relationship could become romantic; after all, she had been the first one to suggest the idea by sending flagrant hidden messages via her snake scarf costume. I began to try to use magic to make passes on her, mainly by discreetly waving around my trusty red pen or by dressing in colors I thought she would find attractive.

Then, I thought it best to let the magic work and tried to stay as close as I could to her. Nothing happened at first. Maybe she was a little confused. Eventually, though, she got the idea. She told me that she had a boyfriend. However, we had spoken at length about Dante's Divine Comedy , and after buying the book and looking at all the pictures, I knew its hidden messages. The book was an explanation on how to use magic. The more a person refused to give into romance, the greater the power of the magic.

I eventually pushed the boundaries with her too far by sending her an e-mail asking to meet me one night. Because of my advances, she dropped me from the class and forbade me to enter the building where she taught. Luckily, I did not have any other classes in that building and so could easily avoid her. Still, this was not at all what I had intended on happening. How was I ever to learn how to use magic? What hurt most, however, was that I would no longer be allowed to go to Tokyo.

I had lost one of my crowning achievements at the University of Michigan and my first chance to visit another country. I had pinned so much of my hopes for my future architecture career onto that class. What was I going to do now? Before I could make any decisions, I was summoned to the assistant to the dean of my college, Literature, Science, and the Arts, to speak about what had happened between my teacher and me.

As I waited in the lobby, I observed a few interesting details. I had simply been summoned to the assistant to the dean to be shown a world where magic existed. This was my lucky day. I was not in trouble; I was being introduced to a whole new world. I told the assistant to the dean all about my new powers. Surprisingly, he was a bit taken aback by this, and after the meeting, I was led to the Counseling and Psychological Services of the university. This was not what I had expected.

Instead of a warm welcome, they were trying to suggest that I was crazy. I chose not to tell the psychologist working that day anything that had happened to me, and eventually, they had to let me go. My delusions quickly grew more convoluted and scary. Everyone I passed on the street would give a personal comment about me or insult me. It was clear that they knew the details of my personal life. From these detailed comments, I deduced that I had been on a secret TV show all of my life, similar to the Truman Show. At first, this did not bother me that much.

But soon, it became quite clear why I had been televised. People thought of me as the next incarnation of Jesus Christ, and I was destined to take my place as the god of the earth. Now, this bothered me. Although I had been born and raised Catholic, I personally have no religion and consider myself to be an atheist. So, I vehemently contested the fact that I was god on my MySpace page, updating it every few days with another diatribe against those who believed me to be god.

After a few days of this, I began to believe that I had angered the world's population of Christians by declaring myself to be a normal guy, and they would take their vengeance upon me somehow. From this point on, every bump on the wall of my apartment and every cry in the distance were directed toward me. These were some of the most frightening times of my life. I started to feel as though everyone had it in for me and that they were planning my murder. Every moment could be my last. I confessed these feelings to my girlfriend, but she did not understand why I would believe such a thing.

She did all she could to try to convince me that I was safe. But I did not believe her. Spring break was soon upon me. A few days earlier, near the time of the Tokyo class debacle, I had broken the news to my parents that I had been dropped from that class and would be spending spring break as I had done every other year, at home. I think my parents were confused about what exactly had happened, but my parents, always supportive of me, welcomed me back. Because I did not have a car in campus, my mother would be driving my sister, also a University of Michigan student, and me back home to Port Huron.

That was the plan anyway. During lunch in Ann Arbor, my mother was telling us how she would be taking my other younger sister to Canada to see her favorite band. But I knew that this was not the whole truth. After all, I could see the hidden messages behind things. My mother and my sister would be attempting to escape the coming apocalypse by fleeing to Canada. I had caused the end of the world to come, and I had only moments to live before I would be tortured to death by an angry mob for having caused all this.

Still, I had some business left to finish before we left Ann Arbor for home.

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My physics laboratory had not yet officially been dropped. I needed my instructor's signature before I could withdraw from the class. My mother would drop me off at the laboratory, circle the block, and pick me back up. When I got out of that car near my laboratory, I thought that my mother had abandoned me. I saw her leave and drive past me. I knew I had to find my own way out of the apocalypse.

From the physics laboratory, which I did not even bother to enter, I rushed into the middle of campus, the Diag. Here, I saw groups of people walking from place to place, groups I thought were of a religious nature and were preparing themselves for the coming apocalypse. Not everything was a bad omen, however. I also saw children playing Frisbee. I concluded that the hidden meaning of the children playing foretold that life would go on after the apocalypse, and perhaps, there would even be a heaven on Earth, as is prophesied in the Bible.

People were gathering everywhere. It was only a matter of time before they found me and literally ripped me apart. I knew that action must be taken. I had to kill myself. First, I decided to jump off a building. I considered the library, which was big but not quite high enough to ensure my death from falling.

After deliberating a bit, I chose Dennison, a veritable tower of a building. When I got there, I climbed the 10 or so stories; elevators after all might get stuck if someone knew I was in one. Finally, out of breath, I reached the top. There, some rooms were open, and they were filled with machinery. All the windows up this high were bolted shut.

I would need to break one.

Recognising that mind and body are not separate opens door for new treatments

Although I considered breaking a window with a piece of machinery and then jumping off, I was now shaking with fear. There was no way I could jump. It was simply too frightening to contemplate. I would need a new way to commit suicide. Leaving Dennison, I passed a large decorative anchor. I needed a sign and fast. Why would an anchor be there if not to give me a hidden meaning? This made some sort of twisted sense. After all, what was happening had been foretold in the Bible. Naturally, there would be signs for me to interpret.

At the time, I thought she was speaking literally and that the song was a sign for me to drown myself. From there, I made my way through the graveyard to the river in Nichol's Arboretum, a large park on campus. Although the banks of the river were frozen with ice, the vast majority of river was still flowing water.

I remember ducking my head into the shallow water, waiting for the ice-cold water to enter my nose. After trying this numerous times, I realized that this would not do. There would be no way I would be able to die like this. I simply always came back up for air. Lost, I looked around for a hidden message. After a minute or 2, I got the idea into my head that I was supposed to jump off the bridge into the water.

It was only about 10 ft high, but I thought I might be able to jump headfirst, lose unconsciousness, and die by drowning. It was an easy climb up to the top of the bridge, but I was still nervous about doing the deed. From a distance, I could see a person on the opposite side of the bridge, whom I believed was aiming a rifle at me.

It was now or never. I jumped headfirst into the river. Although I did not lose consciousness, I did hit my head and my back on an icy spot in the middle of the river. With an aching back, l looked down at myself and realized that I had torn and bloodied my shirt. With all my options exhausted, I shuffled through the water slouched over to the underside of the bridge. There, the most horrible graffiti of mutilated people stood to greet me. Had even my botched suicide attempt been foretold? Now I was petrified and freezing because the temperature was in the teens. Giving up any chance I had to kill myself, I decided to get help.

Maybe there were some people who would still help me out there. I walked out of the park toward some buildings. There, they took off my soaking wet clothes, warmed me, and sent me by ambulance to the main hospital. Greeting me at the main hospital was my mother and my sister, who had been frantically trying to find me. They had known that something odd was going on with me because I had previously told them some of my hidden messages and my belief that I was being followed, but neither of them guessed that I would have tried to end my life.

My delusions did not stop in the hospital either. Instead, they kept getting more elaborate. In the hospital that night, I began to believe that I was being tested for my new role as Jesus Christ. If I failed, I would be, like the beings of Dante's Hell, frozen in a block of ice for eternity. On TV, each show carried some hidden message of sex. I had to find the show that would foretell what the next world would be like, but I could not find one to fit my vision of a utopia. I could not even find one that did not broadcast sexual innuendos! I settled on a boxing show, despite the fact that such brutal masculinity was not to my taste at all.

I would be frozen in ice for sure. As tomorrow came, however, it seemed as though I had passed the test. The next day, I spouted ways for how people could improve the world. What this world needed was more green energy and green ways of living! I began to get into religious debates with my aides who were watching me. It gives the illusion of solidity and security in a world where there is no ultimate closure in the human effort to describe.

It's so big that it's so small, fractal in nature really. Johnson I have found, that many so called pleasant and affirming voices, are as misleading, as aggressive, accusing voices. This is because I have found, that any voice, which I cannot ascribe to be my own, or that which is actually uttered by another person, can often add to delusions. Any thought needs to be tested, on grounds of reason and evidence.

Often the pleasant affirming voices, pander to my ego. Thus they lead to delusion. This does not just apply to schizophrenics. Encouraging to hear experts in the field broadening their view, beyond the biomedical model, of what constitutes mental illness. Also encouraging to learn that the voices of those with the lived experience of other realities are being taken more seriously. If anyone at the ABC is looking for an idea for a follow-up program, it would be interesting for me to hear a program on what are the current views on what is mental health, what are its causes and how culture-specific is it.

Modifying these will be part of a CURE?? Norman Swan has his faults, but I suggest you run these things past him before publishing such weird assertions. There are many sufferers who will find this whimsy very offensive, and would have obvious grounds for a complaint to be sustained. Lang look at relationships and their impact on the individual and what happens when there are contradictory messages from family and the confusion and undermining of confidence that impacts the patient?

Why are the anti psychotic drugs that are prescribed shortening the lives of the patients and giving them strokes? Do we continue to give penicillin when there is an adverse reaction? No but medication that has major side effects is still prescribed for the schizophrenic patient. Is the deficit because of attrition due to a physiological problem or is the deficit due to medication? Who taught the patients self hate?

The Spectrum of Sanity and Insanity

It's such an intense overwhelming internal dialogue -whose voices give them the particular words that tell them they are worthless and to kill themselves? Is this another example of power and its misuse? Laing was no doubt right in describing the difficulties experienced within families when a member is psychotic. He just had the arrow of causality the wrong way round. He's also not a great role model. These other rhetorical questions reflect an ignorance of the experience of people with psychosis, and especially what the world was like pre Lifetimes spent in asylums, some chained up, all despised.

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That's where the self-hate originated- in the public bigotry and fear of the "mad". It is cruelly invalidating to suggest that there is nothing wrong with these sufferers, rather it is just some paternalistic conspiracy between "power-misusing" doctors and evil pharmaceutical companies. The comment is also patently ridiculous in invoking penicillin. Because this wonderful drug has side effects and serious allergies, does not mean that deadly pneumonia, syphilis, septicaemia are 'due to medication'. It is despicable to invoke vulgar Marxism to explain away the suffering of these people.

If mental illness involves a physical imbalance in the brain, then why can't people requiring treatment be treated in the same way as all other Australians who are ill. Instead they are isolated and not treated equally. We do not have separate hospitals for those suffering from heart disease. We provide them with specialist doctors and access support allied health workers such as physios, etc.

All advice given to those suffering with a mental illness is to exercise regularly, eat well, socialise etc.

My daughter has been in an adolescent mental health ward four hours drive from our home , for 12 weeks. Like the other year olds they are not treated in the adjoining Children's Hospital, but in an adjoining adult mental health unit. If staff permits not frequentlay , the children are walked to the children's hospital to access their facilities for one hour a week. As they return to their ward, the drabness of their environment becomes more apparent.

Acknowledgments

Unlike those in the children's hosptial, they do not have their own tv above their bed, they are not allowed access to computer games, telephones or ipods. There is no exercise program, no menu to select items of choice for meals. Instead they are offered two food choices and if neither are liked they can have a sustagen meal replacement.

There is a small garden, but that is usually locked. Most of the games are old and missing pieces. The children are bored and spend most of the day watching tv. No inspiring visitors drop by. Unlike the children's hospital, there are no volunteers. No money donated to the children's hosptial makes it way to these children. Why can't these children who are equally unwell recieve the same treatment? Same goes for adult wards: Your clothes are not locked in a cupboard. Where, oh where, is dignity? Where, oh where, are human rights?

As I have had times of illness, which have been diagnosed as schizophrenia, I found the program intensely fascinating. I was particularly fascinated and very much appreciative of Ms. Last's or is it Dr. Last's comments, when she got to the point of the matter, work and love. As I know how desperately lonely it can be, to be ill, perhaps on a pension, without a partner, I can understand the need for love and relationship.

Have struggled to find work, then keep work, I can understand the depth of satisfaction that work offers, which is financially stable, but also intrinsically rewarding can be. As I have struggled with being called all kinds of parasitic beings, because I have drawn a disability pension at times, I know the feeling of warm self esteem, that comes from having a job. Thank you for the latest on schizophrenia research. Of course there is much more than this, but it was really interesting and enlightening.

It gives me hope that so many comments here are thinking independently of established institutions which are exercising authority without evidence based-science. Perplexed if you join the dots from all these comments you might wonder if schizophrenia is necessarily the problem. Jonno for instance hears good voices but that is never publicised. Lack of social contact, inability to concentrate, bad temper, self-centredness In fact one should look at whether these behavious problems are exacerbated or even created by a society that is paranoid about difference.

It is not just human society that singles out black sheep for mistreatment. With humans I suggest that some of the philosophical ideas of the so-called schizophrenics are subconciously deemed too dangerous. Such is the philosophy of "Schizophrenics in Good Health" http: It is fantastic to read such a diversity of comments. Having a lived experience of schizophrenia and schizo-affective disorder,for the last 20years. It was refreshing and hopeful , to hear Brendon Clarke's' assertions concerning his own journey, and road to recovery.

As discussed -briefly by Brendon himself. Stigma and fear based on ill-informed concepts of what is schizophrenia and how schizophrenia presents itself - especially unfortunately in some media reports. As well it cancan cause and create personal internal stigma for individuals diagnosed with schizophrenia s. As discussed in this all in the mind session. Its hopeful that new research into more suitable medication profiles is being addressed for consumers of these medications. AS well as for the prosribers of these potent medications. The optimism expressed was heartfelt by me personally.

Prof Kulkarnis' views as well are great to hear ,as again it gives us as consumers and people living with schizophrenia another insight into just how complex the psychosis of schizophrenia really is. Thank-you ABC radio -A most informative and insightful program.



Schizophrenia is not curable because society refuses to allow it to be. Thus said individual is to be regarded with even more suspicion than usual even if displaying NO overt symptoms of the 'disorder'. Thus an individual who may be showing symptoms, once labelled, will manifest far worse symptoms because of the greatly increased anxiety imposed upon him or her and their peers who also become increasingly anxious.. It is common to link a cognitive dysfunction with schizophrenia.

However, there are people with a cognitive dysfunction who are not schizophrenic. So what's the difference? However this is just a result of the long term persistent stress, and is actually made worse by the anti-psychotic drugs which block or antagonise these receptors. This is because the associated neurons grow even more receptors in an attempt to get around the blockage. Schizophrenics are beyond the protection of the Law. That is noone feels any obligation to adhere to the Law when dealing with them, including the police.

They are thrown out of rented houses illegally, having all their property stolen 'legally' when they are unable to retrieve it. When becoming naturally aggressive at this treatment, this provides justification for yet further abuse, repression, compulsory medication, etc. Thus society is behaving every bit as psychotic toward the Schizophrenic as he or she but totally oblivious to this anomaly. Unable to rationalise society's gross insensitivity and callousness they see this as a giant conspiracy involving widespread collusion, whilst there is indeed collusion among their persecutors, something totally denied by them.

They come to understand that the only way that the media will take any interest in them is if they commit an act of violence, thereby fulfilling the public expectation of being extremely violent 'without any provocation whatsoever'. As if the great long list of abuses is NOT provocation, being thrown out of house after house, incarcerated against their will, medicated with extremely toxic drugs, given ECT, the list goes on and on.

So when one does commit an act of extreme violence as an alternative to enforced suicide just who is to blame? Would you like to tell me what kind of extreme violence you committed? Obviously, you felt compelled to fight back but was it successful, or only spontaneous? I agree with most of your other comments. If I don't take the pills one of my pupils grows larger than the other this goes down after a few days. Sounds like you committed violence on the house and must have hurt yourself in some way or wouldn't be seeing a doctor. No I am not patronising you but let me know how it turned out I have come out of the other side of psychosis with the help of pills and I have stopped taking them and ended up back with the people who used the same things that caused my psychosis.

There is no doubt common consciousness has a dominating influence on individual mind states. Visiting Sri Lankan monks say they cannot meditate when in Australia. That's why the Asian century declaration is so important- it signals the empowerment of an Asian mindset and thought paths so crucial to mental health.

Thank you for this program. As a fairly new disability support worker, currently working with a young man diagnosed with schizophrenia and also as being on the autism spectrum, I am hungry for as much evidence-based research as I can get my hands on. Reading the comments above I am both heartened and disheartened by the familiarity of many of the sentiments expressed.

I agree that power and its misuse is definitely an issue when it comes to people with disabilities and mental health 'conditions'. I am struggling to do my best to support this young man within a service and a system that is limited in its capacity to meet the needs of individuals sensitively and with the subtle intelligence required. Too often service providers are blunt instruments acting without real education and knowledge.

This is the same Sri Lanka where a 27 year civil war has just recently ended? The Sri Lanka in which both sides of the conflict committed many and varied war crimes on defenceless civilians? That Sri Lanka where, since the civil war finished, the government stands accused of ongoing human rights violations including false detentions and disappearances?

If your "common consciousness" theory has any basis in reality, the wonder is that the monks can do any mediation at all when IN Sri Lanka. Would love to meet Brendon and experience the art exhibition. A family member has suffered the affects of schizophrenia for 20yrs he is now 49yrs.

He had little insight to his illness. We declined as he was early 40s. The hope that was is now a reality. My daughter who lives is Brussels is a film maker made whilst in Aust. Well rec'c in Europe. Art, science and schizophrenia Download audio show transcript Broadcast: Sunday 4 November 5: Facebook Twitter Delicious Reddit Digg what are these? And what about your family—were your family supportive then?

And the stigma, did that affect you and your family? You should have brought photos How did that journey start? So it was a whole range of things really that helped you. Yes, a better diagnosis so you know what approach to come from. Emma Last, education officer at the Dax Centre in Melbourne.