My name is Robert Hagee and I have a mental illness, I have had the illness since childhood, it was believed to be schizophrenia when I was young but came to schizoaffective disorder. If I was to write anything about my illness it would be this: that without my mother who was very strong from her life struggles as a child and as an adult, I would not have survived; I look back and realize if I was to know of all my issues and struggles to come when was a young and not to know of the good I do not believe I would have continued. There are other issues with my health and the hardest thing I face is that my mother will be at my funeral and my only regret I would ever change is the fact that my mother has had to experience my life with me.

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I have been trying to get my son, Patrick, social security. He is schizoaffective. Well, he is dual diagnosed. #2 is substance abuse.  I just received “the denial” in the mail from the administration. They refused him because the said he abuses drugs and that when he stops using he’ll recover.  Can you believe that!   He unfortunately starting using before I knew he had mental illness or anyone else in the family knew. I thought I just had this horrible drug addicted rebellious kid on my hands. He always had problems since he was very young but I just didn’t know. It wasn’t until he started having conversations with himself where family members could see that we started looking on the Internet about what that means. He started hearing voices too.   It’s been an uphill battle every since. He does not refuse phych meds anymore, but I cannot keep him off street drugs because he’s a substance abuse addict. His #1 diagnosis is schizoaffective. My brother’s son has recently been diagnosed too. THANK YOU NAMI FOR HELPING ME !  I wouldn’t have been able to go through all this(understanding mental illness) without you.   But now that I do understand I am really sad that other people don’t! 

I am writing this letter to you as a spouse and sibling of mental illness.My brother was never fully diagnosed with depression or bipolar, he suffered several years. As a result of not getting proper treatment, his medication was changed very frequently and he  committed suicide. He left behind three children under the age of 13. It’s been really hard to understand the what and the why, he chose to take his life.

I took the next NAMI Family-to-Family program at our local VA hospital, in 2010 it was the first time I had been educated on any form of mental illness. After taking the class I wanted to let everyone that I know about all the information I learned. I took the teacher program and became an advocate for NAMI and I can honestly say that it helped me to heal from my brothers death. I still would like to know why but that’s something I will never know. 

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            My name is Jennifer and I am a recovered mental illness survivor—

            I have endured severe mental illness for over half my life.  During that time, I suffered from clinical depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder.

            Due to the depression, my behaviors ranged from excessive crying to excessive sleeping to suicide attempts.  I felt feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and helplessness.  All I thought I wanted to do was die.   But in fact, what I really wanted was help with overcoming my severe sadness.

            During my manic states, I endured impulsive, spontaneous, and irresponsible behaviors.  I felt on top of world.  I felt excessive amounts of energy.  I had racing thoughts.  I had delusions of grandeur.  I’ll be honest.  It felt great to be so high, but it is also very dangerous.  Risky behaviors can lead to much endangerment of self and others.

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Hello, I wanted to write to those attempting to understand mental illness. My name is Jori, I spent my entire life not knowing or understanding why most people didn’t see the things I saw or heard the things I heard so I always knew I was gifted and a chosen one in my mind. My mother was diagnosed with 8 personalities and my father had severe mental illness too which I am not sure was ever diagnosed but because of his alcohol and drug addictions, I am not sure if people assumed his addictions were the issue which was just a bandage for the real problems in his mind.

I first began to notice I had something wrong when I was about 14 and I would snap, once attacking my mother whom I hated and throwing her to the floor in attempt to kill her. I was removed from the home and lived with a family which I observed kindness and loving relationships which was my first opportunity to see things in the home I came from were not acceptable as far as neglect and verbal, mental and sexual abuse.

I never graduated from high school and had two children with two different fathers who abandoned me during my pregnancies, leaving me to care for my children as a single parent. I did not know that I was supposed to bath my children and my oldest got an infection and had to have a surgery on his penis which flared up from never being cleaned by the age of 3. My fear was keeping him safe and not abusing him. I also would give my children a cup of chocolate milk and a vitamin in the morning and send them off to school without a lunch. The school finally began giving my children the free lunch programs so they would have something to eat. I never learned to cook or do self care until I observed friends caring for themselves. Life was tough, life was lonely and the loneliness has never left me for some reason I hold a hatred for my parents still to this day and I am 48.

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You always hear about Schizophrenia and Bipolar Disorder, but Schizoaffective disorder is not nearly as widely known. My name is Rose, I am 21 years old, my mental illness started when I was around 12, and came to a peak again when I was around 14 and attempted suicide twice.  Fast forward to age 18, I was just out of high school and ready to start college.  I started having mood swings, deep depressions for weeks and weeks of extreme hyperness and sleeplessness.  It effected my school work very negatively and I ended up dropping out.  I became extremely isolated, even from people in my own house.

Things started getting worse rapidly as my mental health was declining.  I began hallucinating and started having paranoid delusions about the government and those around me.  I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder which later changed to Schizoaffective Disorder: Bipolar Type.  There are 2 types of Schizoffective, Depressive type and Bipolar type.  The psychotic symptoms happen both during and in between mood episodes.

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I grew up with a mother who was mentally ill, but we never had a diagnosis until she was 88 years old. That is when she moved into my home. She was schizoaffective all her life but I never had knowledge of this disorder, I mean I knew she had her mood swings but I had no mental health education so I just accepted that was how she was.

Prior to mom moving in I had taken a 47 year old woman in as a friend who needed a place to live. She is also schizoaffective plus she has PTSD, OCD, eating disorders, Self-harm, SAD, dissociative personality disorder, ADD, and has at least 4 suicide attempts that I am aware of.

Living with these 2 was way too much for me to deal with, and I needed HELP! I turned to NAMI FTF to find answers and learn how to cope. I also started therapy for myself. Self care is so important, especially when you are a caregiver.

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Mental illness has been a part of my life for the past 30 years.  There have been many ups and downs.  There have been times I was hopeless and wanted to die.  Mental illness has even consumed my life at times.  Even so, mental illness does not define me.  I am more than schizoaffective disorder, depression, and bipolar 2.  I am not ashamed to have these disorders.  But I am also more than a label.  I am a unique person who happens to have a mental illness.  I do, however, understand that these labels are important, since they are used in giving the doctors direction in the best treatment for me. 

Having a mental illness has been the worst and best thing to happen to me.  It has been the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with.  It has disrupted my life.  It has caused much pain for me and my family.  And it has moved me to the point of almost taking my own life.  Yet, having a mental illness has taught me many things about myself and about life.  I have learned that joy can be found in the simplest of things.  Every day is a day to start over and begin again.  I have seen more love and compassion from family and friends than I may have never seen otherwise.  I am more capable than I would have ever imagined to stand up to the hardest of life’s challenges.   Perseverance has become my friend.  And faith leads to healing for mind, body, and soul.

This thing we call life throws things at us sometimes that can overwhelm us and push us to our limit.  It dangles hope in front of us sometimes, only to jerk it away in an instant.  And just at the moment we think we have it figured out along comes a curve ball in the form of unforeseen relapses and occasional hospitalizations.  Mental illness has robbed me of many years of productivity and happiness.  But it has also led me to where I am today.  And that is a good place.  It is a place that I never dreamed I would be.  I am blessed with a wife who loves and understands me and a son who loves me unconditionally.  I have a sense of purpose and a desire to help others who are living with a mental illness. 

Yes, having a mental illness takes away so much from people.  However, learning to live life with a mental illness can give a new sense of meaning and purpose.  Finding this meaning and purpose is a process that takes time and patience.  Rome wasn’t built in a day.  And discovering meaning in the pain of mental illness won’t come overnight. 

I believe that real meaning in life can be found in the quality, not quantity, of life that we have.  Because, of the treatment I have received and the help of many caring people I am able to experience the quality of life that escaped me for many, many years.  Now, I am convinced there is a purpose for my pain.  My life has meaning.  And, hope, is a common word in my vocabulary.  There is hope.  There is always hope.  Mental illness does not define me.  It is not who I am.  It is something I am learning to live with and overcome every day.  By the grace of God, my future is bright.  And I am determined to shine the light of hope on others who may also be living with a mental illness. 

It was never about how dirty the house was or how many newspapers you had saved overtime or the amount of magnets you had on both fridges. It was the draining effect of what your mental illness would bring. What mom was I going to see today? Will she be nice and funny? Will she be mean and hurtful? Will she be sad and kept to herself? Everyday was different. Each had a little twist to them. From bipolar to manic to depression the things that are forbidden to be talked about. Yet they take so much away from people. I never hated you I just hated your illness. I hated that you became mean in a blink of an eye or you get sad within seconds and I did love when you were funny because we could crack jokes but all it took was for one little thing and you’d switch. I never wanted this for you. All I wanted was my mom. Your illness took over and it was so hard to love you. When you knew how to take the wound you opened and twist and dig it deeper. I know one day ill look back and be thankful for all the lessons learned and maybe help others one day, but for now I just want to help you.