Chapter 17

Apost from Joe Giles’s blog, Divided Mind:

It’s late, but I can’t sleep. I had a really hard night, and I’m still freaking out about what just happened. I lost my temper and got into a fight with my brother, Charlie. I haven’t lost my temper like that in years.

So why did I fly off the handle, you ask? Charlie accused me of doing something I did not do, that’s why. It’s too disturbing to tell you what he accused me of, but suffice it to say, it was an appalling accusation. I think I now understand why he blamed me, though. He’s scared something is happening to him, but that’s his business and not mine to share. What I want to write about tonight is how I reacted. Like I said, I haven’t lost my temper like that in years. Tonight I did.

Here’s my fear, irrational as it may seem, but perhaps Mom’s sudden illness (you have to read my last post for more about that) is affecting my schizophrenia. Perhaps there’s a chemical change taking place in my brain, altering my behavior in ways I can’t yet predict. I’ve always wondered if my childhood epilepsy, seizures triggered by music (click here for my ancient blog post about that) was some sort of precursor or warning that schizophrenia was heading my way, still a few years out, but planning on staying forever. Doctors found my hypothesis interesting, but since my type of epilepsy was rare and my schizophrenia is a more common form, nobody ever explored the link. They just said it was an unfortunate double whammy, so to speak. Maybe there is a link, but it’s been dormant in my brain all these years. Now something has changed in my brain chemistry, and the same anger—that uncontrollable violence—is back, but without the seizures this time.

I know all too well the stigma and misconception linking schizophrenia to violent behavior. I also know there are those with the illness who do behave belligerently and sometimes violently. There are “sane” people who do the same.

My illness, however, has never manifested itself in a violent way. It’s more like a warping of reality for me. I see things that are not there. I hear things that are not said. The illness has touched every facet of my life. My behavior may be unpredictable, but it hasn’t been dangerously violent before. My disorder makes it hard to organize my day, not to mention hold down a decent job, which I now can do (thank you, Walderman). My disorder doesn’t demand that I harm others. If anything, the person I’ve wanted to hurt most is myself (click here to read about my one and only suicide attempt).

So here’s the question you can help me answer. Am I being paranoid (ha, ha, ha, ha)? Could my fight with Charlie tonight be linked to chemical changes of schizophrenia? Don’t people get into fights all the time who aren’t schizophrenic?

I know it’s not easy for my brother to live with me. I know I’m not always easy to live with. But our mom wanted us to be together in case she ever got sick. She didn’t want just anybody looking after me; she wanted it to be family. And let’s face it, I sometimes need looking after. It’s a big deal for me to admit that, but Walderman has made it possible for me to do so. I love my brother and I always will. For the sake of both of us, I hope there won’t be a repeat of tonight’s events.

Writing this out is cathartic for me. Normally, I’m not all woe is me in these posts, but tonight I needed it to be this way. Tomorrow it will be better. I’ll remind myself to take it one day at a time. I’ll take my meds and endure the side effects same as I’ve always done. I’ll go see Rachel. And in the morning maybe my brother will forgive me. More important, maybe I’ll forgive myself. I’m still pretty angry at Charlie right now, though, so I don’t know if either is going to happen. I could use some thoughts and comments. I guess I’m feeling a little lonely right now. Thanks for reading, as always.