My name is Max. I have had schizophrenia for 9 years, and I want to tell you my story through psychological hell to recovery and hope. I’ll tell you at the beginning that beyond giving you an amusing story about my experience, I eventually want to convince you with my story that I discovered something called “Street Epistemology” that is growing in the atheist community, and that it has helped me get better, along with medication and support from the mental health community.

I was born in 1989 to a wonderful family. I have so many fond memories of growing up. I had a big family get together with all of my aunts and uncles and cousins all going over to my great grandmother’s house and having lunch and a good time together. All of the people in my family were very loving and had wonderful bonds. I was close with my siblings, and my brother and I shared a lot of friends. All of the friends and teachers I grew up with, I feel like were wonderful people, and I felt very bonded to many of them. We went on a lot of family trips growing up, and I traveled in a lot of different parts of the United States, and even to Mexico a few times.

I had no particular health problems, and there would have been no way to predict the hell I would go through when I turned into an adult. I never broke a bone, never had a cavity, never had any major diseases, and although i was prone to a lot of viruses, nothing serious was wrong with my health at all. I did have a teacher in about 4th or 5th grade tell my parents that I had ADHD, because I spent a lot of the time in class staring out of the window. I think she was mistaken that this was caused by a disorder, however. I think the truth is that I was a child full of wonder and energy for the world, and didn’t like to be closed up in the classrooms.

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My son has experienced what I later learned is a fairly typical gradual-onset  pattern toward full-blown, and heartbreaking, schizophrenia. After years of chaos, we have gone through the stages of family emotional acceptance (NAMI Family-to-Family saved us, which is why I now teach and train others to teach it) and have hope once again - but that hope is always guarded, affected by stigma, caution and some sense of loss.

One saving grace comes in realizing we are not alone. Speaking out about family experience brings mental illness into the light, where it belongs. My book Ben Behind His Voices: One Family’s Journey from the Chaos of Schizophrenia to Hope was created in part to open eyes, ears and hearts to the family experience - and get schizophrenia out of the closet so we can work on paths toward mental and emotional recovery.

Bravo to Lifetime - I hope this movie can help us take another step away from stigma and toward empathy, acceptance and solutions.

Randye Kaye

My name is Gthreesongs why because I don’t really like sharing my name because of things that happened in the past. I probably suffer from bipolar disorder or depression and anxiety and maybe Schizophrenia but there is hope for people that suffer from it just have good friends and love life and your family or if something is happening where you don’t like your family chose your friends.

I write;

I write because it frees my spirit; I write for through doing so I discover the world.

I write and read my thoughts to myself and others.

I have a mental illness; I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia effective.

It has changed my fate; it has altered my thinking, it has clouded my dreams.

Nevertheless, I write.

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I am diagnosed with schizophrenia and depression, but meditation and Nonviolent Communication has reduced my symptoms along with medication and therapy. For twenty years I struggled with evil voices and bad relationships, but my wife (God bless her soul) and our children helped me to maintain hope and inspired me to get help. After losing my temper and hitting a man because I had lost my job and children I went to NAPA State Hospital where I was put back on medication and was treated with respect. Later, while in San Francisco County jail I learned to meditate to reduce anxiety. And while in prison for my crime I learned Nonviolent Communication, a method of thought that focuses on satisfying others’ needs rather than conquest. Today I am assistant manager of a transitional clean and sober living home. I’ve been here two years and I am on probation for being hired. I feel better each day and I am solving problems. It’s not impossible to find solutions. Reduce the negative and you will win.

Hi, my name is Emilia and I have schizophrenia. I was diagnosed in 1997 with acute psychosis. I started taking anti-psychotics at that time and a few years later, I was feeling much better. I met with my psychiatrist on a regular basis and that helped a lot. I managed to finish my studies in arts & literature, and published a few poems. There is hope! No matter how hard things might look, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Keep on following your doctor’s advices and take your medications. It’s very important. And most important: have faith in life and try to be optimistic. 

Hello. You can call me Jack. I’m 17 and I’m going through what you could call “hell on earth.” Over the past 2 years my mental health has taken a nose dive. I’m just now coming to terms with the fact that I’m developing a serious case of schizophrenia. 2017 was the year I had my first hospitalization. I told my mom one day I was done with living. So we went to the hospital and I stayed for about 5 days. It was surreal there. My mind began to tell me things. “This isn’t happening. None of this is real.” The day I got out I thought to myself: “I never wanna do that again.” Fast forward to October of 2018. My mind is beginning to cave in on itself. I brought a knife to school and planned on calling the police so they would shoot me. I didn’t do it because I was afraid I would go down as a terrorist or something. So my mom came to school to pick me up early as I came to the counselors office and told her I wanted to kill myself. (Didn’t say I had a knife on me) My mom took me home and we began to scream at each other. She was gonna lose her job because of me. She said “What are you gonna do!? Huh? Nothing.” So I pulled out the knife and told her I’m done. She got on the phone and called my counselor, who then began to talk to me over the phone. Little did I know he told the police about me. I heard sirens in the distance as I rambled on and on to my counselor. Then, it happened. A white car pulled up to the front lawn. Two large men got out. I dropped the phone. They came up to the door almost unaware of my mental state. I swung the front door open. I said, “Oh look its the police.” I then pulled out my knife and said “shoot me.” They quickly rushed in and said “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” I ran around the corner and got hit by two tasers. One in the stomach and one in the shoulder from behind. I timbered over like a tree. Laying on the ground feeling every atom in your body have electricity shot through it. It was extremely painful. They cuffed me and took me outside. I wasn’t crying yet. But It came. I slowly began to realize that my life might just be over. I’m going to be imprisoned for years. I got in an ambulance and went to the local hospital. A cop came around the corner and explained to me that they weren’t going to charge me on the count that I’m mentally ill. It was a relief. But then came the time to go to a place where I would be “safe.” So it was either the penitentiary or a children’s hospital in another city. Finally, a spot at the hospital opened. I got there late at night just like the prior hospitalization. I got into my room and passed out. I cannot tell you how much I despise that hospital. I was bullied there. And we were kept in a tiny day room all day. I got out on Halloween Day and I got to hang out with someone who I really like. I was ready to try again at life. January comes. The voices in my head are telling me to end it again. I stayed up all night writing a 50 paragraph suicide note. I began to post suicidal things on social media. And one day, my best friend called me “the most ignorant person I know” And just like that, they were all gone. My four best friends. One of them being someone I loved a lot. So here we are now. I have no friends and I’m not in school. But I do have hope still. I want you to know. If you are reading this. I do love you. Even if I don’t know you. I love you. I know what it feels like. To go through hell. To have no friends. To have a crippling mental illness. If you’re thinking of hurting yourself, please don’t. It will only bring more pain and suffering. If not to you then to your family and friends. If you have faith in God, use it to your full strength. I have faith that someday I will meet someone with a beautiful, strong heart. Strong enough to remind me everyday that they love me. So don’t give up. Even if you think you have nothing. Fight back and tell yourself that someone in this world loves you. Even if that person is me. 

My diagnosis came as a shock to me. I thought schizophrenic was a term limited to homeless people talking to themselves on the street. Instead what I experienced was a long and tumultuous road filled with loneliness and at times, hope. I am 25 years old and had everything, a job, family, friends. Schizophrenia it feels took all of that away. Friends don’t know what to say to me to make it better, my family seems uncomfortable and doesn’t want to talk about it, and I lost my job due to not being able to perform the tasks. No one tells you how depression seeps in even after you’re well as you mourn the loss of your health. I lost my ability to connect to others, to experience true joy, and gained 35 pounds of which I am having a very hard time losing. I don’t want to go to the gym because I am tired. My brain is tired and my body is tired from the psychotic episodes that caused me to be hospitalized. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel but right now, things feel grim. 

And I knew I wasn’t right 

So I planned on going that Friday night 

And I knew I wasn’t okay

Making it the perfect place for me to stay 

See, for most, a mental hospital isn’t a choice 

It’s one of those things where you are left without a voice 

Brought there suddenly against your will

Then before you know it, you are given a bunch of random pills 

But for me, it was where I was supposed to be

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