Yeah, I know this isn’t a comic, but this blog is about so much more than just drawing…just saying.
Note to those who read this; I was diagnosed as schizophrenic as a 11 year old child. Since then I recall the deep oppression and intense feelings of what it was like to suffer through losing a loved one, being a diagnosed mentally ill child, and the things that revolve around my life thus far.
Here is a segment from my story…Enjoy
I spent that halloween in the children’s psych ward swallowing only a few pieces of candy and wondering to myself if it was fate for me to be utterly confused about my circumstances.
At that point I had two brain scans done after being wheeled down several wards, past bland white hospital walls, and fake ugly floral decorations that reminded me of any place I hated to be. As I was being wheeled down several hallways to the elevator I felt a heavy drift in my head. I was too young at the time to know that the heaviness in my head was probably an effect from the medication I had been given by the doctors.
There was a lady there that I thought I hated, but I was only taken aback because I had been deeply intertwined in mental illness itself. I was in a heap of a mess.
At first my mother had thought I had only a slight disorder of the brain. This lead to her putting me in an a inpatient medical class for kids with ADD. When my mother mentioned “we are going to put you in ADD” The first thing I thought was that it was going to be a lot of work because I hated math. Little did I know it was actually a class for children who might possible have attention deficit disorder. I remember being told to participate In a drawing activity in the class, the other children started to harass me for not being on key with what we were doing, they got mad at me for taking to much time to draw a picture on the white board, honestly I didn’t even want to be there. I twisted my self in my chair fearing the inner battle I faced on a daily basis, one filled with silent words of hurt and pain.
I remember being asked by the doctors “What do the voices say?” The lady that asked me but it was too much for me to process. She wanted an answer from a child that was complicated. I sat in silence every time she asked me that question. I mean what was I going to say? The voices would say such violent things and sometimes warp into monsters, threatening my small insignificant existence.
I remember looking in the mirror when the voices came back. “You’re worthless, just kill yourself and if you don’t find a way to do that then…” They would say such nasty things. These voices were in my head. No faces, no bodiments, just voices.
Only later in my life did I realize that these voices could have been real people at some point of the time, yes even if they were from a future-event. Cyber-bullying I found out about later in life after being diagnosed as a child schizophrenic. I felt for the boys and girls being bullied, because I felt the way they did when the voices became too much for me to handle. I wanted to die, no I wanted to getaway from them eternally…
Thoughts from a schizophrenic child…To be continued.