In 1994, during a particularly hectic time at the start of my human services career, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for the first time.
I was sleep deprived and overwhelmed with religious thoughts. I reached out to people in my life who I thought could help. I thought that if each of those people put their hands on me, that finally I could sleep.
In the end, they weren鈥檛 able to help, and I wasn鈥檛 able to sleep, and the police were called.
I was handcuffed and taken away. I thought I would wake up in some new place the way Michael Landon did in Touched by an Angel, and that I鈥檇 no longer be in the back of that uncomfortable police car.
I screamed for them to look out, feeling that I could sense something in our way, but we were fine.
We arrived at the North Bay Psychiatric Hospital. I thought this was a place where angels went to rest, and at first I was relieved to be there.
But, I had a very rough couple of weeks there. I remember tricking nurses to open the door, wrestling to get free. I thought that people could change forms and that they were someone else other than themselves.
I escaped the hospital at one point, walking out the doors, past nurses and doctors. I made it right out to the highway, and hitched a ride from a guy named Ted. He had a name patch on his arm that I literally read as 鈥淏ed鈥� and I felt that this meant I had found rest.
I remember we got into a conversation about how I felt I could be a millionaire if all of my friends would each send me a dollar. It鈥檚 pretty funny to look back on it now and, honestly, I still want to be a millionaire, but with friends, not dollars.
Both of my parents flew out to North Bay to be with me and to help sort out my situation.
After two weeks there, my doctor felt I needed to be treated for manic depression, and a plan was made for my dad to drive me home to Moose Jaw. Once home I had to be checked into the Moose Jaw psych ward, and I spent another month there.
My new doctor felt that I needed to be observed and he treated me for schizophrenia. I remember some of the medications caused me to do the Haldol Shuffle, where I could only take tiny steps a few inches at a time, and Rheidol made me drool. I found this so hard to bear as my family was there to see me that way.
I remember my uncle telling me I had to 鈥渟nap out of it鈥� and I really wished that I could. I had a lot of visitors in those days, my sister, cousins, aunts and uncles, grandma, mom and dad. What an ordeal for everyone to have to see me like that.
I still had delusions that people were actually someone other than they appeared, or that there was some 鈥減lan鈥� to get me out of there. I was out by Christmas with a diagnosis of manic depression and prescriptions for Lithium and Chlorpromazine, a heavy sedative like Valium. I was relieved to not have to be in there over the holidays.
As I tried to make sense of my diagnosis, I spent a lot of time speaking to friends and new acquaintances. I felt a lot of shame and guilt for putting my loved ones through such a difficult time.
I eventually found that there were a lot of people who had been through similar experiences and diagnoses and that they were moving on. I realized, maybe I didn鈥檛 have to be ashamed.
I found ways to feel better, working as a ski instructor at Blackstrap, and enjoying new friends.
It was in the fall of 1995 that my mom mentioned ads for employment in Jasper, and I saw an opportunity to take care of myself in a new way. I came to Jasper, like a lot of young people, expecting to spend a winter working a seasonal job and then I got drawn in by the community鈥攖he same community that I love to this day. I spent years partying and enjoying the lifestyle, working at hotels, and skiing the rest of the time.
I moved away in 1997 thinking that I needed to make more money and be more responsible.
I had been stable for a year and a half and I had permission from a psychiatrist to go off of my Lithium, if I wanted. I still remember his warning that if I did get sick again, I would have to stay on the medication for the rest of my life.
That 鈥渄eal鈥� really stuck with me, and when I once again spent five days without sleep, on April 29, 1999, I again ended up in the hospital for a month.
I experienced similar religious fixations as I did five years before and ultimately the police picked me up at the seminary in St. Albert where I had gone to see a friend. This time there were no cuffs, and the police car was comfortable.
My family members once again visited me and there were jokes about being certified; to me that meant I should be good to go, like other certifications.
The fact that I was an involuntary patient meant to me that I was 鈥渋n鈥� on a 鈥渧oluntary鈥� basis. I had a lot of fun with word play and I thought that I was pretty funny in there.
This time I didn鈥檛 accept treatments other than Lithium, and for the first three days I wouldn鈥檛 even accept that. I felt I knew what had worked for me before, and I wanted the chance to get back to the person I was.
There were times when I did get pinned down鈥攈alf willingly, as I knew they were trying to help鈥攁nd given injections when I didn鈥檛 want to take the additional pills.
I am a firm believer that if something is working for a mental illness, that a person should stick with it. From what I have seen, if someone is feeling better and then stops taking their medication, they may not have as good of a response when they start again. I am on a higher dosage of Lithium than I was when I was first diagnosed, and since June 1999, I have continued to take the same dosage daily.
When I went off the Lithium in 1997, I noticed an increase in my short term memory and more control over my weight, but those are small tradeoffs for having good overall health for the past 17 years.
It鈥檚 hard at times to sense the stigma around mental illness, and to remember that the face of mental illness could belong to anyone. I am one of many in our community that has battled mental illness.
I say I had my mid-life crisis early.
I have been honest with many of my employers over the years, but I don鈥檛 talk about it all the time鈥攂ecause it often seems like something in my past, rather than something of the present.
I am sharing here with the hope that others will feel comfortable to accept assistance and see the supports around them. I especially hope that the upcoming Jasper Mental Health Awareness Week campaign鈥�#forhealthyminds鈥攚ill assist in restoring dignity to people who have felt beaten down.
Paul Schmidt
Special to the 51暗网
