| Biographical Non-Fiction posted April 8, 2025 |
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This is about memories in my life that stand out. A memoir
Childhood Schizophrenia and me
by playinaround
Southern California in the 1960s and 70s. Loved it at first, I graduated high school in 1979. I thought I had a simple and happy life… In a way it's true, but I had challenges that tested my strength.
Looking back without selective memory, I realize that my life was not so simple easy, In fact the chaos inside of my head never stopped.
Looking back without selective memory, I realize that my life was not so simple easy, In fact the chaos inside of my head never stopped.
One sunny day around 3rd grade, I was riding my bike with my best friend Amy, I didn't feel right. I was riding along and became cognizant that something was wrong with me. It was something that began years before. Back then I didn't have a vocabulary that included the words that describe what my revelation meant. You could say, I had an 'aha' moment. I knew something It started with the inability to concentrate. The second symptom was anxiety.. I didn't understand and certainly could tell no one for the simple reason that I couldn't explain it. I was too young and my vocabulary at that age. also I felt there was no one to tell. anyway. I didn't know how to express what was happening to me. I felt neglected by my parents as a child. My life was changing and I had less and less control over my thoughts and behaviors. In the aha moment that I discovered things weren't right, I became more unhappy, as though I was slowly going into a place no one would want to go.
We all sat around the dinner table every night for dinner. My parents never had much to say. My siblings and I had to hear insults and put downs from my oldest brother who was the leader of sorts of our dysfunctional family. So my problem grew.
In the fourth grade I was standing in line on the playground to go to class. I began to ruminate. Suddenly I got very distressed and thought that I was 'over the hill'. A very strange obsession for an eight year old. My depression increased as time went on until I felt there was no way out. I had zero hope left in me. I could not feel love of any kind. I was suffering.
In the fifth grade something happened that changed my life although I didn't know why. I lost my best friend Amy. She stopped talking to me. It was Valentine's Day and Amy and I decided to give a special card to a boy we both had a crush on. We wrote "love you babe" among other silly things. So Valentine's Day came and he was in my class so I had to do the deed of giving him the Valentine's Day cards that me and Amy made. it was time to pass out our cards and I became very very nervous. I got to Steve's desk. I got so scared that I couldn't give him my valentine card, But I don't know why to this day, I gave him hers. I finally saw Amy again in my mid 20s and got the full story about what happened in the fifth grade. Apparently the boy gave the valentine card to her teacher and the teachers all thought that it would be a good idea to humiliate Amy by scolding her in front of her whole class. I understood finally.
By sixth grade I remained very depressed and believed to my core that I was simply unlovable. I was a zit faced, dandruff ridden depressed young lady.
It was 6th grade now. The first day in music appreciation class. The teacher told us to close our eyes and to get in touch with our feelings as a certain song was going to play. It was 'Alone again naturaly' by Gilbert O'Sullivan. He put the song on the record player and right from the beginning. tears began to fall. They streamed down my cheeks till the song was over. Feeling very embarsssed as classmates were leaving I knew people could see me. When class was over I awkwardly walked by the teacher at the door as I wiped my face of tears. He said nothing to me. Back then that was normal for teachers to keep professional; but lately I've fantasized that the teacher spoke with me and helped me express myself. c'est la vie
I was a loser in the sixth grade and a hopeless nerd in the seventh grade, fighting to get good grades and go by the rules. In the eighth grade, I smoked in the bathroom. I was filled with anger I could barely go to school. I had to fight to find peace.
Now the high school years: After the summer of my last year of junior high, I had become a calmer person. I wore make up and dressed nice. my acne days were better and I was more mature, and I still had the pain of schizophrenia. Once in science class the teacher kept showing us movies of freakish medical conditions. It really bothered me and I couldn't help but become afraid I would get one of these bizzare conditions and thinking of all that could happen to me. I was 14 and in ninth grade. That was when my thought processes began to become strange and distorted. As a child, I was bouncing off the walls, confused in my head and far from normal. I can admit that when I got into my teens, more serious things were happening. , And my world became a nightmare.
To be continued…
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