Had a discussion with my father last night of my recent experiences with schizophrenia. I was over taking my medications and he once again checked my hand and under my tongue for errant pills. It can be rather humiliating.
“I think everyone is watching me and laughing at me,” I told him as we sat in his den. “It is so discouraging and drives me crazy.”
“That must be so tiresome,” My father replied with a worried look upon his face.
“I was sitting in Rodger’s eating lunch and thought every burst of laughter was about me and that every prying eye in the restaurant was focused upon me. I wanted to jump up and run out screaming.”
“You didn’t, did you?” He asked, worried.
“No,” I replied. “When I am on my medications I know it is happening and can temper the crazy impulses.”
“You seem so much better now that we have your medications on a regular schedule,” he said. "You look better."
“Oh, I have lived with this since the early nineties,” I replied. “I am better. It is just worse sometimes than others. It comes and goes.”
“I feel the same way,” my mother chimed in sitting in the chair across from me. “I think everybody is talking about me and watching me.”
“You two must think you are pretty important,” My father said kind of facetiously.
“It’s not that at all,” I replied. “It is self deprecating to be exact. We think something is odd with us or that we look funny. We think we are being made fun of.”
“We need to talk to your doctor about this,” he said. “This worries me.”
I tried to tell my father that we can only manage my schizophrenia to a certain extent. It will never leave me nor will I ever be cured. I will always have symptoms and through my medications the symptoms are greatly reduced to where I can live with them without becoming psychotic. My father, the pharmacist, thinks we will find some magical combination of pills and I will become the next Nobel peace prize winner, a doctor, or person of great accomplishment. I long ago quit living in that kind of fantasy land. I will always live a simple and low key life to better manage my schizophrenia and its symptoms. I just wish my father could understand that. He puts so much pressure on me to live an orthodox and successful life. It is all rather alarming and disturbing.