Confusion in the 4th dimension: my schizophrenia story

Schiz LifeHi all.

This week my guest is Jared from Schiz Life.  He shares his story of how he got to the point in his life where he ended up tripping on LSD and mushrooms to experience a psychotic break and the onset of schizophrenia.

I don’t want to take anything away from Jared’s story–we all have our unique experiences–but my trigger and psychotic break were very similar to what Jared describes in this post.  Hearing his story and going through his site has been a godsend as I begin to understand better what occurred in those very dark days of my life.

Here’s a snippet of Jared’s story

I’m going to fast-forward through much of the beginning of my life.  We know schizophrenia has genetic and environmental factors.  It goes to say that while neither of my parents is schizophrenic, one is very obsessive in the sense that she’s just over the threshold of being a hoarder.  She is a very kind and compassionate woman.  My father, however, did contribute genetic and environmental problems.  He is very anxious, very impulsive, and very compulsive.  He tends to be domineering and oppressive, frightening everyone into agreeing with him or at least cowering beneath him.  This, in addition to some episodes of sexual abuse, laid a horrible foundation for a youngster.  I learned how to communicate all of my emotions through one: anger.  I also learned how to think like my father, which meant “black and white” authoritative thinking.

To read the rest of the post, please allow me to reroute you to the main Mental Health Talk site via this link to Jared’s story:

Jared is excited for feedback.  So after you’ve read the full story and if you have anything you wish to share in the comments, please do not hesitate.

Thank you.

Much love,


How to go from feeling misunderstood to building bridges


I wrote the MHT post this week which includes one of my cartoons (which I have included in this post but HID parts of the cartoon to intrigue you to come over the main MHT site…

It is based on my long time love affair with feeling misunderstood and how my passion helped me to understand my mental health better and as a result, turned on some of the people around me to acknowledge my 6 year (and counting) journey with PTSD.

Here’s a snippet…

How many times have you felt misunderstood?  Or did you give up counting a long time ago?

I think everyone feels misunderstood at times.  People make judgments, assess you from outward appearances, and have too much going on in their own lives to be present to your pain.

It forges a disconnection between you and them; them being everyone else in the world that is not going through a similar experience.  It’s not that you don’t want people to understand; you are just tired of the assumptions and the disappointment of not being heard.

Feeling misunderstood has been a big theme in my journey with Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).  It has been the main ingredient for me to create the reclusive life I live right now.

Oh yeah, I should probably mention my stubbornness too.

Feeling misunderstood is kind of lonely… and then you become a cat lady.

Please head over to the main Mental Health Talk site to read the rest of my story at:  And while you’re there, please leave a comment to let me know about your experience with feeling misunderstood.

Thanks for reading and happy weekend.


A time of peace and joy, as long as you leave me the hell alone!

Go Away by David TemplinHappy New Year!

I’m a little slow to post this one… my apologies.  I hope you still find it relevant and funny.

In this story, one of MHTs regular contributors shares his fear of isolation during the Christmas season & how he doesn’t ask for help.  Volunteering is slowly changing his perspective.

In the first week of November, I walked into a drug store and was horrified to hear Christmas music piped in from all sides. A stranger in front of me stopped in his tracks and voiced out loud, “Oh for C***t’s sake! Give it a rest! There should be a law against playing Christmas music before December!” I chuckled, louder than I intended. The man turned and looked at me. Then we both laughed. For a moment, my horror and his anger went away. The laughter shifted my perspective and briefly connected me to another person. It wasn’t the Christmas spirit I was feeling mind you, it was way too early for that!

Please click over to to read the rest of this story:

Thank you.