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VOL. 21, NO. 3, 1995
First Person Account:
Schizophrenia—Adrift in
an Anchorless Reality
Janice C. Jordan The article that follows is part
of the Schizophrenia Bulletin's
ongoing First Person Accounts se-
ries. We hope that mental health
professionals—the Bulletin's
primary audience—will take this
opportunity to learn about the
issues and difficulties confronted
by consumers of mental health
care. In addition, we hope that
these accounts will give patients
and families a better sense of
not being alone in confronting
the problems that can be antici-
pated by persons with serious
emotional difficulties. We wel-
come other contributions from
patients, ex-patients, or family
members. Our major editorial re-
quirement is that such contribu-
tions be clearly written and or-
ganized, and that a novel or
unique aspect of schizophrenia
be described, with special em-
phasis on points that will be im-
portant for professionals. Clin-
icians who see articulate patients,
with experiences they believe
should be shared, might encour-
age these patients to submit
their articles to First Person
Accounts, Division of Clinical
and Treatment Research, NIMH,
5600 Fishers Lane, Rm. 18C-06,
Rockville, MD 20857.—The
Editors.
The schizophrenic experience can
be a terrifying journey through a
world of madness no one can un-
derstand, particularly the person
traveling through it. It is a journey
through a world that is deranged,
empty, and devoid of anchors to
reality. You feel very much alone.
You find it easier to withdraw
than cope with a reality that is
incongruent with your fantasy
world. You feel tormented by dis-
torted perceptions. You cannot dis-
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tinguish what is real from what is
unreal. Schizophrenia affects all as-
pects of your life. Your thoughts
race and you feel fragmented and
so very alone with your "crazi-
ness."
My name is Janice Jordan. I am
a person with schizophrenia. I am
also a college graduate with 27
hours toward a master's degree. I
have published three articles in
national journals and hold a full-
time position as a technical editor
for a major engineering/technical
documentation corporation.
I have suffered from this serious
mental illness for over 25 years. In
fact, I can't think of a time when
I wasn't plagued with hallucina-
tions, delusions, and paranoia. At
times, I feel like the operator in
my brain just doesn't get the mes-
sage to the right people. It can be
very confusing to have to deal
with different people in my head.
When I become fragmented in my
thinking, I start to have my worst
problems. I have been hospitalized
because of this illness many times,
sometimes for as long as 2 to 4
months.
I guess the moment I started re-
covering was when I asked for
help in coping with the schizo-
phrenia. For so long, I refused to
accept that I had a serious mental
illness. During my adolescence, I
thought I was just strange. I was
afraid all the time. I had my own
fantasy world and spent many
days lost in it.
I had one particular friend. I
called him the "Controller." He
was my secret friend. He took on
all of my bad feelings. He was the
sum total of my negative feelings
Reprint requests should be sent to
Ms. Janice C. Jordan, 4700 Five Forks
Court, Virginia Beach, VA 23455.
502
and my paranoia. I could see him
and hear him, but no one else
could.
The problems were compounded
when I went off to college. Sud-
denly, the Controller started de-
manding all my time and energy.
He would punish me if I did
something he didn't like. He spent
a lot of time yelling at me and
making me feel wicked. I didn't
know how to stop him from
screaming at me and ruling my
existence. It got to the point
where I couldn't decipher reality
from what the Controller was
screaming. So I withdrew from
society and reality. I couldn't tell
anyone what was happening be-
cause I was so afraid of being la-
beled as "crazy." I didn't under-
stand what was going on in my
head. I really thought that other
"normal" people had Controllers
too.
While the Controller was his
most evident, I was desperately
trying to make it in society and
through college to earn my degree.
The Controller was preventing me
from coping with even everyday
events. I tried to hide this illness
from everyone, particularly my
family. How could I tell my fam-
ily that I had this person inside
my head, telling me what to do,
think, and say?
However, my secret was slowly
killing me. It was becoming more
and more difficult to attend classes
and understand the subject matter.
I spent most of my time listening
to the Controller and his demands.
I really don't know how I made it
through college, much less how I
graduated cum laude. I think I
made it on a wing and a prayer.
Then, as I started graduate school,
my thinking became more and
more fragmented. One of my psy-
chology professors insisted that I
see a counselor at the college.
Well, it appeared that I was more
than he could handle, so I quit
seeing him.
Since my degree is in education,
I got a job teaching third grade.
That lasted about 3 months, and
then I ended up in a psychiatric
hospital for 4 months. I just
wasn't functioning in the outside
world. I was very delusional and
paranoid, and I spent much of my
time engrossed with my fantasy
world and the Controller.
My first therapist tried to get
me to open up, but I have to ad-
mit that I didn't trust her and
couldn't tell her about the Control-
ler. I was still so afraid of being
labeled "crazy." I really thought
that I had done something evil in
my life and that was why I had
this craziness in my head. I was
deathly afraid that I would end
up like my three paternal uncles,
all of whom had committed sui-
cide. I didn't trust anyone. I
thought perhaps I had a special
calling in life, something beyond
normal. Even though the Control-
ler spent most of the time yelling
his demands, I think I felt blessed
in some strange way. I felt above
normal. I think I had the most
difficulty accepting the fact that
the Controller was only in my
world and not in everyone else's
world. I honestly thought that
everyone could see and hear him.
It progressed to where I thought
the world could read my mind
and that everything I imagined
was being broadcast to the entire
world. I would walk around para-
lyzed with fear that the hallucina-
tions were real and the paranoia
was evident to everyone.
My psychosis was present at all
times. At one point, I would look
at my coworkers and their faces
would become distorted. Their
SCHIZOPHRENIA BULLETIN
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teeth looked like fangs ready to
devour me. Most of the time I
couldn't trust myself to look at
anyone for fear of being swal-
lowed. I had no respite from the
illness. Even when I tried to
sleep, the demons would keep me
awake, and at times I would roam
the house searching for them. I
was being consumed on all sides
whether I was awake or asleep. I
felt like I was being consumed by
the demons. I couldn't understand
what was happening to me. How
could I convince the world that I
wasn't ill, wasn't crazy? I couldn't
even convince myself. I knew
something was wrong, and I
blamed myself. None of my sib-
lings have this illness, so I be-
lieved I was the wicked one.
I felt like I was running around
in circles, not going anywhere but
down into the abyss of "crazi-
ness." I couldn't understand why I
had been plagued with this illness.
Why would God do this to me?
Everyone around me was looking
to blame someone or something. I
blamed myself. I was sure it was
my fault because I just knew I
was wicked. I could see no other
possibilities.
In the hospital, every test
known to man was run on me.
When the psychiatrist said I had
paranoid schizophrenia, I didn't
believe him. What did he know?
He didn't know me. He was just
guessing. I was certain he was try-
ing to trick me into believing
those lies. Nevertheless, he did
start me on an antipsychotic medi-
cine and that was the first of
many drugs I have been given
over the years.
This first medicine was Thora-
zine, the granddaddy of all
psychoactive medicines. I have
also, at one time or another, tried
Mellaril, Stelazine, Haldol, Lox-
VOL 21, NO. 3, 1995
itane, Prolixin, and Serentil, to
name a few. These medicines
seemed to work for a while, but
the symptoms always came back
and the side effects were not
pleasant. Many times, though, I
began to think my medicine was
poisoning me, and I would quit
taking it. Then, the "craziness"
would return in full force. I would
usually end up in the hospital
and, with more medication, doc-
tors would stabilize the psychosis.
I tried to commit suicide twice
during these periods. I wanted to
punish myself for having this dev-
astating illness. The Controller was
trying to ruin my life. He was
making me miserable. Yet, I clung
to him like a sinking ship, even
though I felt like I was drowning,
slowly but surely.
I was truly blessed when I
started seeing my present thera-
pist. I have been seeing him for
the past 19 years. He has been the
buoy in the raging waters of my
mind. I was blessed again when I
became the patient of my present
psychiatrist. He has been taking
care of me for over 16 years. They
both have been my saviors. They
have not hesitated to try new
medicines and new approaches.
No matter how bad things have
been, they have always been there
for me, pulling me back into the
realm of sanity. They have saved
my life more than once.
In fact, it was through them that
I started taking Clozaril, a true
miracle drug. It doesn't have half
the side effects that the other
neuroleptics have, and I have done
remarkably well on this medica-
tion. The only problem with this
medicine is its extremely high cost,
which is why most people with
schizophrenia are not taking it.
Fortunately, my medical insurance
covers the high cost of this drug.
In fact, my medical insurance has
paid for all of my hospitalizations
and treatment. Sometimes I get
scared that they will drop me, but
I choose not to dwell on this fear.
I do know that I could not have
made it as far as I have today
without the love and support of
my family, my therapists, and my
friends. It was their faith in my
ability to overcome this potentially
devastating illness that carried me
through this journey. There are so
many people with serious mental
illnesses. We need to know that
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we, too, can be active participants
in society. We do have something
to contribute to this world, if we
are only given the opportunity. So
many wonderful medications are
now on the market, medications
that allow us to be "normal." It is
up to us, people with schizophre-
nia, to be patient and to be trust-
ing. We must believe that tomor-
row is another day, perhaps one
day closer to fully understanding
schizophrenia, to knowing its
cause, and to finding a cure.
Thank you very much for listen-
ing to me. It is my hope that
I have been one more voice in
the darkness—a darkness with a
candle glimmering faintly, yet
undying.
The Author
Janice C. Jordan has successfully
accomplished work as an Engi-
neering and Technical Documenta-
tion Editor for over 20 years and
has completed a book of poetry
based on her thoughts and ex-
periences. She enjoys spending
time with her family and friends.