"Wake Up!"

WARNING!! The following post was written over the course of three days... it may seem disjointed, because it turned into more of a rant than anything else. I apologize ahead of time and hope you can still take something away from it.



Lately I was fortunate enough that I no longer needed to take a certain medication. It seems that the symptmoms I was experiencing were strictly circumstantial, such as violent mood swings. But over the years of being on the same medication day after day, I apparently have lost my sensitivity regarding the emotional needs of others.



As a young boy I could tell right away whether my family members or friends either needed to talk or needed to be left alone. Excessive medication has dulled this ability so much by suppressing my own emotions so far, that not only are they no longer razor sharp, but will no longer cut butter.



I refuse to say the name of the drug because each person is different and this particular medication has saved some of my friends and allowed them to live happy healthy lives. The effect it had on me was severe mood suppression when igt came to anger and depression, which can both be very beneficial, and lack of impulse control when it came to spending money. It was supposed to level me out, which in a way it did, except it made me too happy and unable to feel anger.



Now that I am not taking this drug, I've been angry with friends and family and I feel wonderful. But I'm afraid it hasn't sat well with some.



I was having a cup of coffee with some friends the other day and we were discussing myself buying a home. One friend, also schizophrenic, was going on and on about how I should do this and how I should do that before I considered. He wouldn't shut up about it and my other friend was trying to change the subject. But he wouldn't shut up. I had made the mistake of saying that I was trying to buy a certain house because I really wanted to help a young couple out that were in a jam. But this friend kept at me, talking in circles and eventually blurted out, "What's your name, Jesus Christ?"



I said, "Yes!" He shut up and my other friend and I got up and left. He hasn't talked to me since.



I still laugh about this conversation because of the look on his face. He was definitely not expecting this answer. Only a schizophrenic could truly get away with such a reply, but could I get away with it if I had not been raised in a very religious home?



While I had gone to church and had been very active in the Mormon faith, I had always had it drilled into my head that there would be a second coming of Christ. I don't think my sunday school teachers would ever have expected me to take this news so personally.



I soon found myself so convinced that I was Christ that I was blessing people and drawing crosses on people's walls. I would surely end up in the psych ward.



I've never heard of an atheist who has had a Christ complex. Is this one of the faults of baptizing people when they are so young, and in my opinion eight years old is still too young. These children are just that, children, and joining a church is an adult decision. When I was baptized I did it because that was what I thought that was what my parents wanted me to do. I still had many questions that have yet to be answered by any religion. I am seriously leaning toward Buddhism, though, because of their accpetance of all faiths. I can not believe in a religion being the one and only.



So does this make things easier for atheists? I don't think so. They just have other types of delusions during their mental illness, usually still revolving around themselves. Delusions are very personal experiences no matter who you are. Atheists can believe the world revolves around them just as easily as a Christian can believe they are Christ. Though self-importance isn't always caused by mental illness, it could just mean that the person is an ass.



I myself believed I was one of twelve parts of Christ and when all twelve of these parts got together in one spot and crucified ourselves, Christ would magically appear and either save us or damn us.



I still womder what would have happened if I had allowed this delusion to play out instead of getting help. I even explored this "What if...?" by fictionalizing it in a novel. This is one of the reasons I love having schizophrenia. I have been given a gift of time and an imagination with which I can write or draw my ideas and not have to worry much about paying the bills. In Alberta, Canada, the mentally ill are provided for for as long as they live or for as long as they can not work full-time. Some people find it easy to work and refuse to seek assistance, or find after time their illness becomes so minor that it is not necessary to be on this assistance.



In my case I feel I am not yet able to work full-time, but choose to work three days a week, sometimes four. I would love to write full-time if my meds didn't interfere with my drive. As things stand, I have writer's block for much of the year and when I do write it's in spurts. In order to finish my first book I had to force myself to write at least two hours a day.



Writing the book, having been very cathartic, still hasn't helped completely. The occasional, but brief, delusion of being a part of Christ still persists. And, because of mhy upbringing in a religious home, I really don't expect these thoughts to go away. I still wonder if maybe, just maybe, these thoughts have some merit. But then I say to myself, "Wake up!" and things straighten out.



As far as I'm concerned atheists just don't have the same potential to have an enjoyable illness as God-fearing people. Don't get me wrong, though. I don't really have anything against atheists. Believe what you want, no matter where or when.