In this blog post I am going to bring up some things that the voices in my schizophrenia experience have been saying to me lately, summarized in one fictional walk from bed to the coffee maker in my kitchen…
“Now, do 10 push-ups for the south side.”
These are the kinds of things I hear from voices in my schizophrenia experience, among thousands of others in a typical day. It was about 10:00 pm and I was laying in bed with headphones on, listening to MIA’s mid-2000s hit “Paper Planes” on repeat in iTunes.
I’d been trying at even newer levels recently to try to take care of my mental health. I even made a new early-to-mid-week exercise bike routine nearly a month ago that I’ve been enjoying quite a bit.
Now, I was under a decent impression for a couple of years that I shouldn’t exercise past 5:00 pm. Regardless, while half-decided on whether I should do the extras or not, I decided to remain laying down for a while more to daydream about visiting my old neighborhood once again, and perhaps move back, now removed some 100 miles in a low-income apartment complex.
My old neighborhood, nested in basically the furthest southeastern pocket of Kid City, is a pillar in my memory of race relations and diversity. So many of the ideas I currently hold about Peace and the importance of race relations stem from living there and enjoying it while still very young. I’ve lived in a neighborhood where a lot of whites and blacks were getting along in community.
“Don’t forget that,” one of the good voices advised, while I was still laying down.
One thing that the bad voices do, on the other hand, when I do think about that neighborhood, is try to overrun my stream of thought with what Peace is not.
The bad voices will pummel my internal dialogue with racial slurs, ideas about fast food, and expensive shoes. They’re trying to give me impressions of how black people live.
“So you think you want to be a n——, huh?”, one of the bad voices asked. The bad voices know that I used to have a lot of black friends. The more I do to help my mental health, the more the bad voices try to keep me from black people.
They, the bad voices, are constantly trying to show me that they have a tighter grip on the black people I used to know and enjoy, than I could ever assume. However tight of a grip that really is in truth, I don’t know.
In my apartment, I have items in my living room that I try to use as symbols for Peace and confidence. I have two art pieces, one a painting and one a print that I bought or received from a couple of black friends of mine who I used to know years ago. I would think that they’re still making art to this day.
Another item is a handmade, wood chess board that my uncle gave me a few years ago. The also handmade ceramic chess pieces on top of the board (made by either my grandfather or a different uncle), are what get compliments from pizza delivery drivers when they’re at my patio as my front door is hanging open behind me.
My plants in front of my window, elevated in pots on the surface of a vinyl record collecting shelf, do offer calm and growth at the same time.
“In 5 years, people are going to be like, ‘I wish I wouldn’t have gotten vaccinated’,” began another voice. “One of the vaccines is going to lead to birth defects. If one of the parents has the vaccine and the other doesn’t, it won’t be as bad. If both parents are vaccinated and they produce a baby, you’ll see malnourished babies that are born drastically underweight, not gaining weight, and not able to make it.”
Another voice chimed in, “Protein vulnerability.”
I still don’t know if these came from a good or bad voice. But for the next 30 minutes or so, the voices traded conversation about miracle babies that would survive on fruits and vegetables and no protein, giving way to some of the world’s brightest and smartest thinkers and leaders that the planet has ever seen, in the coming generations.
I am so grateful that I’ve been able to reconnect with therapy, psychiatry and medication in recent years. So often nowadays, now that I’m receiving treatment again for schizophrenia, these are the kinds of ideas that I’m asked to dismiss or accept. I am so grateful to have a better grip on my behavioral health than I did from 2016 to 2018.
I decided to get up from bed and go to the kitchen to make a couple more cups of coffee. I start 3 cups of coffee every morning after my exercise bike routine, and 25 days out of 30, I don’t drink any more than that.
“Remember also, you will drink more coffee when the weather gets cooler,” one of the good voices assured me.
With “Paper Planes” still playing in my headphones, I scooped 3 spoonfuls of coffee from an aluminum can and dropped them one after another into a fresh, dry coffee filter.
“Stock up on quinoa.”
I’m pretty sure this was from a good voice. I’ve been eating about 3 spoonfuls of quinoa per day for about a month. I’m not exactly sure if quinoa classifies as a “superfood”, but I think I read online in recent weeks that it actually does.
“Get one package of toilet paper that you don’t touch, and one case of water that you don’t open, unless there’s grid shock and you can’t get to a store.”
Sometimes, I appreciate the voices. As for the 10 extra push-ups, I still haven’t decided.
Peace (2), Love (1), Knowledge (3), Understanding (4) and Respect (5).-Chris Milbourn, administrator, www.localsbeforelegends.com