Just a note: Parts of this account and poem may be triggery for some, especially if you are struggling with suicidal feeling or the after effects of abuse. Make sure you take care of yourself, and if it raises anything for you then please talk to someone about it and find some help (either in the 'real' world, the internet or using a helpline). See resources for some useful organisations

My Story

I was recently diagnosed with the depressive type of schizoaffective disorder and BPD. When I was younger I used to have the manic type. I first developed psychotic symptoms when I was about 14. I thought it was ironic that you thought aliens were out to get you because I had the very same delusion. I used to stay up for nights at a time thinking aliens were abducting me and then erasing my memory of the events. Since then I have had so many delusions there is no way I will be able to recall them all. I suffer from auditory and visual hallucinations. There may have been some other types as well.

I come from a family that wasn't always the closest one in the world (sarcasm). The most traumatic events from my childhood though was molestation at the hands of an older man. There is also A LOT of mental illness in my family. Both my parents and two out of three of my siblings have serious mental illness as well and I'm not too sure about the third either. I also have impulses with knives, guns, driving, and jumping. I've had a few half-hearted suicide attempts with stepping in front of cars and have had a few close calls with shotguns as well. I often have trouble seeing myself in the mirror.

I'm sure you understand when I say that people rarely understand the feelings that are involved with serious mental illness. Having said that, I generally do a relatively good job controlling myself and have never been abusive. I'll also have memory problems from time to time. For instance, I'll be driving on the road and will have no recollection of the trip that took me to where I'm at. I was on risperadol, depakote, and zoloft for a few months, but then I stopped and the symptoms have now returned. I have enclosed a poem at the end of this email. I think it does a good job of summing up the kind of deep feelings which are involved in mental illness. Currently I am a 20 year old, male junior in college majoring in Anthropology and Psychology.

Anon

Hate and the Hateful Haters

I found myself lost in a passion, but the heart isn't there
Twiddle your thumbs, because you know I'm still here
Fondle the flowers, molest the child
I went through the night with the flower child
You saw me without weeping
You hate and I laugh
Laughing hatred for those that are hateful
Picking flowers for the child within
We pick too many flowers you and I
We harvested the field and the flowers all died
We play too many hateful games
These lives are tombs
I think you lost your frown in a whirlwind
We hate to be hateful again
The scars on the field, they will never fade
The pastures will not grow this time around
There's a demon sowing poisoned fields
Listen because his song is yours
What you did to the child will not be undone
The rains will not nurture his spirit back to health
There will not be light shining through his eyes any more
He can no longer function in the cruel world
These flowers you picked, they were his last
What life he has left has already passed
He stares up at you with hateful eyes, gleaming dark red
He feels what you are
Together, we hate once again