In my mind, the most important aspect of fighting this degenerative brain disease is to foresee and visualize the worst possible outcomes.
In moments where I begin to refuse treatment, my mother encourages me to think a few steps ahead. I would freefall through the mental healthcare system, and even be institutionalized on a state level, which many psychiatrists threaten me with in order to force me to comply.
My father is scary protective of me. In the past, he’s locked me in my bedroom, not allowing me to sleep unless I take medication.
These factors which frighten me and drag me down must be avoided. I have to be aware enough of my surrounding factors, and my impact on those around me, to make informed decisions regarding my own health. And even when I am sick of side effects and bare tolerance, these memories and consequences drive me on, like a whip to a horse’s back.
My greatest breakthrough in preventing the cycle of recidivism, as powerful as fear is, instead has been to pay close attention to my own mental state and act accordingly. It took 14 hospitalizations, many self-initiated, until I found a treatment regimen worth keeping. The refusal to settle propelled me to a better state in the long run.
As my brother often tells me, stop thinking “I’m fucked.” That your diagnosis excuses you from taking ownership of your own life, no matter how much strife you may encounter.
Over the course of a few years, I learned to stake my own life on risky but potent decisions.
Specific to antipsychotic agents, is that some drugs require close monitoring to prevent bodily harm due to rare side effects. At first, my family and I refused these more involved treatments. But surprisingly, these treatments far outweighed their complications. Clozaril is called the “gold standard” for a reason. And eventually, the weekly blood draws became the norm.
What mental roadblocks are preventing you from reaching the next plateau of mental excellence?