Life A.D. [After Diagnosis]

This SharePost I've titled Life A.D. [After Diagnosis] because it is traumatic when we learn we have schizophrenia.  The diagnosis changes us.  It has far-reaching implications.  The degree to which we give up on ourselves and lose hope of recovering often depends upon how others around us respond to the news.  We need support and encouragement when we are at our most vulnerable.  Too often basic human compassion-the right of every human being-is lacking.

In reading recent contributions to the Connection by community members, I felt it was time to revisit stigma and its effect on recovery. One woman's young son was shunned by his friends after he had a breakdown. One of my best friend's good friends-all of them-abandoned her when she got sick. In my own life, I'm not foolish enough to believe I could disclose my diagnosis to co-workers should I return to school for a Masters in Rehab Counseling.

A NAMI-Staten Island newsletter was devoted exclusively to stigma and its impact on whether someone can recover or perceives he can recover or seeks treatment or tries to better himself. It referred to the April 21, 2009 New York Times article that reviewed a British television show, "How Mad Are You?" The reporter wondered if anti-stigma media campaigns work. On the TV show, people with mental illnesses competed against people who did not have psychiatric conditions to see if a panel of professionals could guess, after the completion of a series of challenging tasks, who was mad and who wasn't. The panelists failed.

The New York Times article went on to say that altering public attitudes towards people diagnosed with mental illnesses depends to a great deal on whether they receive treatment that works: "Imagine poor psychotic souls cowering in doorways, shuffling along in stinking rags or arguing loudly with themselves in the park. No matter how sympathetic the public may be, attitudes about people with mental illness will inevitably rest upon how much or how little their symptoms set them apart."

One thing: some of us will talk loudly to ourselves, or wear Christmas coats in August, or do other odd things. I'm not suggesting that everything is under our control and we should conform to society's roles in order to be taken seriously or given compassion. There may be a tape measure we can use to determine how well someone is doing, yet ultimately there is no timetable we can apply to everyone diagnosed with schizophrenia in regards to how quickly we can change our behavior.

When I was a young woman, I wore theater makeup, imitating the dramatic persona of Siouxsie Sioux, the lead singer of the Banshees, a British band popular in the counterculture. In retrospect, I realized this garish look was symptomatic of the illness and not just a 1980s fashion. I slathered on the charcoal, brown and silver eye shadow, streaked blush across my cheeks, and smeared on crimson lipstick. As I came to see in my late thirties, I hid behind the mask because I didn't want to reveal myself.