Us caregiver’s take on the role of care-giving because we have to, because we want to, but most of all because we love someone who needs us to fulfill this role.
I’m going to dive right in and state that sometimes I want to bang my head on the keyboard when I see or hear another reference to ‘tough love’ like it is something to be shunned and ashamed of. The idea that by practicing ‘tough love’, one is not practicing ‘unconditional love’.
Love is defined as an intense feeling of deep affection.
Sometimes when writing or blogging I will use the term roller coaster… As a parent or caregiver of someone with a mental illness it is a term a lot of us use. A very fitting term if you ask me. There are lots of different roller coasters throughout the world. One of the top ten being the Bizarro (formerly known as Superman: Ride of Steel) in Agawam, Massachusetts USA. My favorite, possible because I have ridden it, is the Ghoster Coaster. It’s a small wooden one in Canada’s Wonderland in Ontario, Canada.
“I am Jonathan”
Having retired from professional filmmaking, this had been where I left off–a study of psychosis and schizoaffective disorder as I saw it through the schizophrenic lens in 2009 and 2010.
“I am Jonathan” is intended to be educational; target audience being grad students in psychology and counseling.
It’s just time for me to let it go, at this point in my life. I do hope it might prove helpful, offer hope and understanding of what schizoaffective is like for me on a daily basis.
“There is nothing impossible to him who will try.” – Alexander The Great
Believing in one’s abilities goes a long way, but it’s taken me over thirty years to arrive in a place where I feel positive about my life and somewhat in control of the thoughts and ideas in my head, which once drove me to bizarre behaviour, destructive tendencies, rages, depression, fear and distrust.
Let me start closer to the beginning of this story. I am of Chinese descent and was born and raised in Vancouver, British Columbia. In 1979, I was a shy, impressionable teenager. I began to hear voices outside my home, in the car and through the ventilation system at school. For months, I believed I was being watched and followed. These ideas expanded to a point that I believed my parents and students at school were trying to hurt and torment me which drove me over the edge. At fifteen, after a year of growing psychosis and increasing hallucinations, I was hospitalized and diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After three months, I was discharged and returned to school.