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  marcoujor's musings

mar's Desk

​This multi-topic blog publishes weekly on Wednesdays.
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On Schizophrenia

3/16/2016

26 Comments

 
Picture
There are some clients in my professional life that are unforgettable. The lessons that I've learned in my clinical years continue to serve me well as I teach nursing's young students about Behavioral Health nursing, my passion of the last 30-years...or so.

In nursing training, there is a text book and there are the people we encounter to serve in times of physical and emotional distress.  To me, the people...that is, our clients... will teach us the essence of the text.

As a nursing student, I studied schizophrenia and the issue of suicide.  It was not until I worked with *Angela  that I grasped the hopelessness, powerlessness and torture that someone can feel with command hallucinations. 

I was inspired to write this story about what *Angela might have experienced in her final hours.  I will be forever grateful of the lessons I am able to now share with my students because of brave and decent people like her.

This short story is dedicated to those who continue to suffer the nightmare of psychosis.  

​ON SCHIZOPHRENIA: ANGELA'S STORY

PictureAlone in her thoughts... G & M Photos
Angela found herself abruptly awake and reeling from the bickering voices inside her head. Ears ringing with raucous laughter and taunting from crowds of men and women, her eyes shot open.

She panted as though she would pass out from exertion. Perspiration oozed from her armpits. Her body shook in convulsions. Oh God, not again!


Angela, the Asinine.

Who were you expecting - Miss Universe?

Listen, it could be worse. She could look like you!

Shut up! Hey, did ya hear about her job interview?

Working in a Nursing Home! Like that might happen.

She'll screw that up.

She always does.

My money says she'll use dope.

I don't know, what about getting liquored up?

Either way, what a waste.

What's the use?

So young.

I'm bored.


Not caring about the job interview, Angela reached for her bedside medicine. Hands still shaking, she uncapped smudged brown plastic vials of Seroquel and Ativan. She suspected these pills did nothing as prescribed but wondered what would happen if she finished them off with a nice cold bottle of beer.

As a child, she had watched her Momma drown her sorrows on more than one occasion. And Pop had never been right since Vietnam. His death had been an accident. He would never have tried to kill himself. Oh, won't these horrid people get out of my head? Mmmm... Angela stumbled to the kitchen in search of that beer.

Told ya!

Jeez, all those pills?

Thatsa lotta crap for any of us normal folks.

Well, duh!

Yeah, right! Make that a double.

99 bottles of beer on the wall...

Oh stop singing! 
I'm just sayin... more where that came from!

Well, she's not going to that stupid interview anyway.

Guess another few won't hurt her crazy ass.

Like you get a vote!

Chug a lug...


The one thing Angela couldn't say no to was a second, well, better make that a third beer. The voices were mumbling now, with seductive, hypnotic warnings. Was she imagining the smell of vanilla? She could almost taste the burnt sugar cookies Mom had made in this very kitchen.

She sat alone at the table surrounded by a growing mound of empty beer bottles. What the hell was she thinking? At last her breathing slowed and warm blood felt like it was creeping to the surface from her dulled, throbbing arteries.

There, there...

Feeling warmer?

It sure gets the blood flowin, doesn't it?

A few drinks never hurt nobody.

You have been through hell.

You really don't have a whole bunch goin' for ya.

No one would blame you.

We totally understand.

Yeah, you know it girl.

Do what you gotta do.


I never told Angela I loved her. Funny, I was her brother for 25 years and never found the time. What I did find that morning, after coming home from night shift was her dead body. Oh, I called 911 on the spot, but it was way too late. She was long gone.

Angela's body had slumped to the floor, dragging broken beer bottles along with her. My broken sister was surrounded by broken glass. Could she have a smile on her face?

Her wrists, both of them, had been slashed over and over with broken bottle shards. Her beautiful face was gashed beyond recognition.

I never cried in my life, but I sure did at the sight of my big sister. She used to tell me about these voices, around the clock, through her head, like a shrieking television that she was unable to turn off. God only knows what drove her to the blood bath that will forever swim in the horrors of my mind.

Do it tonight, Angela.

All alone now. Robby won't be home until morning.

He may not even miss you. Take a chance...

Feel alive for once in your useless life.

Go on coward. Pick up that glass.

Come on silly. Just one gash.

A little blood never hurt anyone.

There! Good for you, pretty!

Now, how about evening those wrists out?

Whoa, now you're getting the hang of it!

Ouch, your face? Whatever, this is your party, Miss!

U H U H O H O H.............


We're losing contact, Houston!

Oh boy, can't win em all.......................

​Please take good care of yourself and those you love - until next week, mar
26 Comments
Peg Cole link
3/16/2016 09:01:59 am

We can sometimes find compassion for those who suffer this illness, but it is always difficult to understand the demons that push someone over the edge. You've described, so eloquently, the terrors this poor woman must have felt, and her brother who sadly had to discover the remains of her lost life. Listening to Angie now. Beautiful post, my sister.

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:46:31 am

Good morning, Peg,
Thanks for being the first to stop by with your feedback.
I thought this song fit on some level...
Have a peaceful day. Love, mar

Reply
Vicki link
3/16/2016 10:04:52 am

Dear Mareer,
This post really speaks to the incredible jumbled loneliness those with mental illness feel. It must make it so hard to carry on a daily life - like living on a precipice. Always thanks for drawing attention to the need for compassion and caring towards those who live in their personal dark world. You did it so well with this.
Love, Vicki

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:39:16 am

Thanks, dear Vicki...your insights are much appreciated.

Wishing you a peaceful day. Love, mar

Reply
Ruby Fuller link
3/16/2016 11:43:42 am

Mar, you brought Angela vividly alive with this writing. How very horrible to suffer with schizophrenia. I worked with a patient who heard voices and acted out. He was a young man around twenty five. The only time he spoke was to answer whoever was in his head. Thank you for sharing this story.
Hugs, Ruby

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:37:59 am

Thanks for sharing your experiences and your heart, dear Ruby.

Hugs to you too, mar

Reply
Mike
3/16/2016 12:15:08 pm

Hello Maria. This was a disturbing story. You told it very well. It is too bad when the voices win.

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:36:45 am

It sure is, Mike. Thank you.

Reply
Martie link
3/16/2016 06:39:32 pm

What a life! What scares me the most is the fact that this was true for Angela and true for many. Mental illneses are still an enigma, and treatment still in its baby shoes.

Mar, I believe in stories like this. Let the reader get an idea what reality is in another person's shoes.

Hugs,
Martie

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:35:35 am

Your remarks are filled with compassion, dear Martie - thanks for taking the time to stop by.

Love you much, mar

Reply
Charlotte Davis
3/16/2016 09:35:55 pm

Such a sad state of mind; mental illness. Mar, you did a great job of describing Angela's. It's so ironic the number of Young people this illness destroys. They are just starting out in life! But how in the world to get past the voices telling them to destroy themselves? Society needs more stories like yours; to be able to understand and give true empathy to others, suffering such demons.

Reply
Maria link
3/17/2016 05:33:55 am

Thanks, dear Charlotte. I agree that much more empathy is needed by society for the mentally ill.

Reply
Sannel link
3/17/2016 03:41:55 pm

Hello Maria,
Thank you for sharing the story about *Angela. How tragic to lose our life over those voices. I wonder why so many young people get these voices? The daughter of my oldest and dearest friend from childhood suffered this illness all through her childhood. Fortunately, she was always rescued after the voices had told her to slash her wrists. Because of right medication and treatment, not to mention parents who fought and stood by their daughter all through the years, she is today a happy and healthy young woman in her thirties. She's keeping a job, as well as studying to become a biologist, owner of four horses and single mom to an adorable two-year old son. Not many, but some stories end happily. I wish Angela had been one of them.
Hugs to you,
Sannel

Reply
Maria link
3/18/2016 07:32:10 am

Thanks for sharing this story of hope, dear Sannel.

The number one reason that promotes recovery / healing is connection.

To have a family / supportive friends stand by you through good and bad times is key.

Love this comment and you, Maria

Reply
wendy
3/17/2016 10:37:18 pm

Hi Mar
Thanks for sharing this with us.its so insightful to understand how people with mental illness go through.We sometimes judge them without understanding The battles the fight in their mind..it's sad these voices they hear always win...God bless your heart

Reply
Maria link
3/18/2016 07:33:42 am

Thanks for taking the time to read and leave such a sensitive comment, Wendy.

Have a peaceful day and take care.

Reply
femmeflashpoint link
3/19/2016 03:47:48 pm

Prof. Mahreer,

Such a terrible thing to suffer with both for those afflicted with it and the ones they interact with.

Is not something that can be dressed up and made pretty but to be aware of the disorder helps to react with compassion when encountering people who suffer with it.

Reply
Maria link
3/21/2016 07:39:42 am

Dear femme,
Thanks for picking up that there is nothing pretty about psychosis and command hallucinations.
And yes, our self awareness and compassion can not be stressed enough.
Have a peaceful week. Hugs, mar

Reply
paula link
3/21/2016 12:43:28 am

Maria.....The monster of this illness angers me. It haunts someone I love VERY much & this breaks my heart. I give him smiles and hugs and lots of love. I try to make him feel comfortable & understood. It's all I can do......except behind closed doors when I cry an awful lot.
Love, Paula

Reply
Maria link
3/21/2016 07:37:20 am

Dear Paula,
The love, hugs, support and connection you bring to this man may mean more than you'll ever know.
Thank you for your big heart to all you love. Love you too, Maria

Reply
crazyhorseladycx
4/1/2016 04:54:07 pm

howdy, ms. mar ~

once i dried the tears that flowed, i finally decided to drop ya a line. i dunno if'n it's gonna sound odd'r not, but ya wrote this dilemma most brilliantly. somethin' that so many suffer with 'n those prescriptions? sheer poison fer most :(

big hugs 'n love to ya

Reply
Maria link
4/6/2016 09:03:25 am

Dear Lady,
You don't sound odd - in fact, your comment is beautiful in its compassion.
Now I don't want to sound odd but thank you for crying - you captured the tragedy in my attempt to relay this horror.
Love you much, mar

Reply
Shauna
4/19/2016 04:27:17 pm

I can't imagine what it must be like to live in constant torture coming from your own head. I applaud caregivers such as you, Mar, for being there to try to bring some sanity to these people's lives.

Your story is indeed bittersweet. But something tells me Angela is now at peace.

Reply
Maria link
4/20/2016 08:48:40 pm

Thanks for your sensitive and compassionate remarks. dear Sha.

I believe you are right about Angela being at peace - at least I hope so.

Reply
Pamela Oglesby link
9/5/2018 11:25:39 am

This is a sobering, eyeopening story, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to have those demons in your head. What a heartbreak for the victim and their family. This is an excellent view of this disease.

Reply
Maria link
9/6/2018 04:51:52 pm

Thanks for visiting this post - which is close to my heart.

Your feedback is greatly appreciated - I respect you as a fine nurse, dear Pam.

Reply



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    Marcoujor

    Welcome to my desk...

    I am a work in progress, so a rule of thumb is to expect the unexpected every week!

    Pull up a comfy chair and make yourself at home.

    Thank you,

    mar  



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