David Baxter PhD
Late Founder
People with Schizophrenia: Each person is much more than any diagnosis
by Dr. Larry Culliford, Psychology Today
May 28, 2011
There is no such thing as ?a schizophrenic'
In the 1986 movie ?Star Trek IV', Kirk is asked if he is from outer space. His calm reply: "No. I'm from Iowa... I just work in outer space."
It's a good distinction to make; just as I occasionally deny being a psychiatrist, admitting only to working as one.This sounds cute, I know; so I only reserve it occasionally to disarm false assumptions about the profession... But I never hesitate to distinguish ?people with schizophrenia' from the adjective-turned-into-noun ?schizophrenic'. In my book, there is no such thing as ?a schizophrenic'.
Working with schizophrenia sufferers for over thirty years has convinced me that most have fine personalities beneath their symptoms. They are often environmentally super-sensitive, especially to how others are feeling. I don't know if this is part of the problem, increasing their vulnerability to the disorder, or whether the illness experiences shape them, making them kinder and more tolerant than they would otherwise be. Perhaps both are at work. Either way, I count it a blessing and a privilege to have encountered and worked with such people.
Bridget, for example, was fairly typical. Her schizophrenia began in her teens, stalling her education. Later, unable to work and earn money, she needed state benefits. This was bad enough, but there were also persistently unpleasant and baffling experiences. For hours daily, Bridget heard loud voices. They were real to her, although no one else could hear them. They were many and unkind, male and female voices calling her foul names, making derogatory comments to each other about her, commanding her kill herself as she was worthless and would be better off dead. As a result, she felt depressed, and was often angry.
Bridget lived in a group-home near my office. With an open window, I often heard her shouting back at her voices, repeatedly swearing loudly, insisting they leave her alone. Her rich profanities would carry on for hours up and down this leafy residential street. But Bridget had already spent several years hidden away in a large mental hospital, since closed, and it would not have been right (or legal) to keep her indoors.
New medication became available in the UK in the early 1990s. Fortunately it worked for Bridget. Her voices stopped. She was gradually able to re-start her life. She was still easily tired and her powers of concentration remained somewhat impaired; but as her voices evaporated, so did her anti-social behaviour. Her mood lifted, and there was no more irate and disruptive shouting in the street, in local shops and caf?s.
Bridget's recovery tasks included repairing the damage her suspicious and angry behaviour had caused within the family. Sadly, her father died too soon, but she was able to get close to her mother and sisters again. The improvement quickly revealed kind and generous aspects of her true personality. Her grateful, now nearly-blind mother said it was like having her real daughter back again after a painful absence of many years.
Another of Bridget's tasks was to grieve the series of losses she had experienced: the loss not only of family relationships, now being restored, but also of her youth, her earlier hopes and ambitions, her ability to complete her education, to work and earn money, to find a partner and settle down, to raise her own family.
A priority for mental health workers is to help people distinguish from symptoms their healthy reactions to major losses resulting from the psychotic condition. It is important to encourage them to grieve naturally; to express anger, self-doubt, shame, and sorrow in a cathartic, even constructive, way, rather than try to suppress these feelings. It is particularly unhelpful to suppress healthy emotions with excessive doses of medication. This inhibits natural healing.
Bridget's schizophrenia stole much of what is normally taken as essential for joy and satisfaction in life. She had to relinquish these goals before moving on. I think of her, and the very many like her, not only as survivors but as heroes. They are examples of people who, through adversity, discover a healthy set of values and ways of coping with life.
After recovery, Bridget's clinic visits were a reminder to me that however bleak a situation may seem, there is always hope for improvement. I also enjoyed seeing her because of her heartfelt gratitude and intensely joyful demeanour.
When asked about it, she readily explained by recounting the treasures sustaining her: her loving family, her rich friendships and particularly her voluntary work. Two or three times a week, Bridget helps out at a day-care centre for the infirm elderly. She enjoys the work and the social atmosphere, the conversation. She feels useful, needed and valued. She feels she belongs there.
Everyone's well-being depends on knowing individually that we are making some kind of contribution to society. It is no different for Bridget and others with major mental illnesses. By helping, even in a small way, to improve the lives of others, Bridget feels rightly that she is giving something back. This adds meaning to her life and affords her a genuine and valued sense of purpose. It delights her also that she can be her mother's eyes, and be available to help her and to protect her from loneliness in widowhood.
It is remarkable that someone who spent several years in hospital, someone whose existence was once almost completely discounted, could have something to teach everyday people about values and how to enjoy a meaningful life; but this is how it is. For Bridget, the recipe for happiness is simple: cultivate loving and trusting friendships; live in the present, taking each day as it comes; be grateful for what you have and share it, however little; think, speak and act when you can with kindness; be honest, especially with yourself; and accept limitations - your own and those of others.
Bridget has schizophrenia, but she is not simply to be dismissed as ?a schizophrenic'. She is real, valuable, special. Don't forget!
Dr. Larry Culliford's books include The Psychology of Spirituality, Love, Healing & Happiness, and (as Patrick Whiteside) the best-selling Little Book of Happiness and Happiness: The 30 Day Guide (personally endorsed by HH The Dalai Lama).
by Dr. Larry Culliford, Psychology Today
May 28, 2011
There is no such thing as ?a schizophrenic'
In the 1986 movie ?Star Trek IV', Kirk is asked if he is from outer space. His calm reply: "No. I'm from Iowa... I just work in outer space."
It's a good distinction to make; just as I occasionally deny being a psychiatrist, admitting only to working as one.This sounds cute, I know; so I only reserve it occasionally to disarm false assumptions about the profession... But I never hesitate to distinguish ?people with schizophrenia' from the adjective-turned-into-noun ?schizophrenic'. In my book, there is no such thing as ?a schizophrenic'.
Working with schizophrenia sufferers for over thirty years has convinced me that most have fine personalities beneath their symptoms. They are often environmentally super-sensitive, especially to how others are feeling. I don't know if this is part of the problem, increasing their vulnerability to the disorder, or whether the illness experiences shape them, making them kinder and more tolerant than they would otherwise be. Perhaps both are at work. Either way, I count it a blessing and a privilege to have encountered and worked with such people.
Bridget, for example, was fairly typical. Her schizophrenia began in her teens, stalling her education. Later, unable to work and earn money, she needed state benefits. This was bad enough, but there were also persistently unpleasant and baffling experiences. For hours daily, Bridget heard loud voices. They were real to her, although no one else could hear them. They were many and unkind, male and female voices calling her foul names, making derogatory comments to each other about her, commanding her kill herself as she was worthless and would be better off dead. As a result, she felt depressed, and was often angry.
Bridget lived in a group-home near my office. With an open window, I often heard her shouting back at her voices, repeatedly swearing loudly, insisting they leave her alone. Her rich profanities would carry on for hours up and down this leafy residential street. But Bridget had already spent several years hidden away in a large mental hospital, since closed, and it would not have been right (or legal) to keep her indoors.
New medication became available in the UK in the early 1990s. Fortunately it worked for Bridget. Her voices stopped. She was gradually able to re-start her life. She was still easily tired and her powers of concentration remained somewhat impaired; but as her voices evaporated, so did her anti-social behaviour. Her mood lifted, and there was no more irate and disruptive shouting in the street, in local shops and caf?s.
Bridget's recovery tasks included repairing the damage her suspicious and angry behaviour had caused within the family. Sadly, her father died too soon, but she was able to get close to her mother and sisters again. The improvement quickly revealed kind and generous aspects of her true personality. Her grateful, now nearly-blind mother said it was like having her real daughter back again after a painful absence of many years.
Another of Bridget's tasks was to grieve the series of losses she had experienced: the loss not only of family relationships, now being restored, but also of her youth, her earlier hopes and ambitions, her ability to complete her education, to work and earn money, to find a partner and settle down, to raise her own family.
A priority for mental health workers is to help people distinguish from symptoms their healthy reactions to major losses resulting from the psychotic condition. It is important to encourage them to grieve naturally; to express anger, self-doubt, shame, and sorrow in a cathartic, even constructive, way, rather than try to suppress these feelings. It is particularly unhelpful to suppress healthy emotions with excessive doses of medication. This inhibits natural healing.
Bridget's schizophrenia stole much of what is normally taken as essential for joy and satisfaction in life. She had to relinquish these goals before moving on. I think of her, and the very many like her, not only as survivors but as heroes. They are examples of people who, through adversity, discover a healthy set of values and ways of coping with life.
After recovery, Bridget's clinic visits were a reminder to me that however bleak a situation may seem, there is always hope for improvement. I also enjoyed seeing her because of her heartfelt gratitude and intensely joyful demeanour.
When asked about it, she readily explained by recounting the treasures sustaining her: her loving family, her rich friendships and particularly her voluntary work. Two or three times a week, Bridget helps out at a day-care centre for the infirm elderly. She enjoys the work and the social atmosphere, the conversation. She feels useful, needed and valued. She feels she belongs there.
Everyone's well-being depends on knowing individually that we are making some kind of contribution to society. It is no different for Bridget and others with major mental illnesses. By helping, even in a small way, to improve the lives of others, Bridget feels rightly that she is giving something back. This adds meaning to her life and affords her a genuine and valued sense of purpose. It delights her also that she can be her mother's eyes, and be available to help her and to protect her from loneliness in widowhood.
It is remarkable that someone who spent several years in hospital, someone whose existence was once almost completely discounted, could have something to teach everyday people about values and how to enjoy a meaningful life; but this is how it is. For Bridget, the recipe for happiness is simple: cultivate loving and trusting friendships; live in the present, taking each day as it comes; be grateful for what you have and share it, however little; think, speak and act when you can with kindness; be honest, especially with yourself; and accept limitations - your own and those of others.
Bridget has schizophrenia, but she is not simply to be dismissed as ?a schizophrenic'. She is real, valuable, special. Don't forget!
Dr. Larry Culliford's books include The Psychology of Spirituality, Love, Healing & Happiness, and (as Patrick Whiteside) the best-selling Little Book of Happiness and Happiness: The 30 Day Guide (personally endorsed by HH The Dalai Lama).
