Hardship, and hope

Hardship and hope

Here’s what I now know about Jackie’s debilitating disease though there is still much I do not understand. The National Institute of Mental Health describes schizophrenia as “an incredibly complex disorder that has increasingly been recognized as a collection of different disorders.” It can occur in men and women of all ages but women often tend to show signs of the illness in their late 20s and early 30s which is exactly when Jackie exhibited signs.
There are different types of schizophrenia “paranoid” being the one that Jackie has. Schizophrenia is often misunderstood and definitely stigmatized as is much of mental illness. Research psychologist Eleanor Longden gave an incredible TEDTalk detailing how she discovered her own schizophrenia how her friends reacted negatively and how she ultimately conquered the voices in her head. Her story is one of hope. Hope that I wish exists for Jackie.

Bonded by childhood

Jackie and I grew up across the street from each other. We were instant friends from the moment we first met at the bus stop in first grade. We remained close all through elementary and middle schools and graduated high school together. Even as we went separate ways for college we stayed in touch and then moved to Chicago within a year of each other. Over the years we shared adventures of our working lives together and stories of family drama boy troubles and fashion mishaps. Jackie even introduced me to her coworker who eventually became my husband.

Facing harsh realities

After the shocking phone call from jail Jackie was convicted of assault and sentenced to seven years in the California state penitentiary system. Three years in Jackie was transferred to a mental health facility. During this time we had been writing to one another and my husband and I decided to visit her. The anticipation of seeing Jackie was gut-wrenching. I didn’t know if I could go through with it or bear to see her in that environment. But I knew I had to try.
As my husband and I stood in line outside the mental health facility waiting for the doors to open my head was flooded with happy memories. Me and Jackie playing hopscotch at the bus stop walking to junior high together driving to high school in her beat-up car. My throat choked up. My legs shook. The guilt of failing her of not being able to help her overwhelmed me.
I looked at the pizza box and Fannie May chocolates in my hand and thought about how ridiculous it was to think they could brighten her day. She was trapped inside this place and inside her own mind. For a second I thought it would be easier to just turn away. It would be easier to remember giggling together on the school bus or cheering her on while she was in the high school prom court or shopping for trendy outfits together at a Chicago boutique. It would be easier just to remember her before all this happened as my carefree fun-loving friend.
But that wasn’t her whole story. Schizophrenia and prison along with it was now part of her life. So when the doors opened I took a shaky breath dug deep and walked in.
When Jackie saw me and my husband she gave us a huge smile — the same stunning smile I remembered from when she was 5 and 15 and 25. She was still Jackie no matter what had happened to her. She was still my beautiful friend.
Our visit passed all too quickly. I showed her pictures of my son and daughter whom she had never met. We laughed about the time a bird pooped on her head as we walked to school and how we danced until 4 a.m. at a St. Patrick’s day party when we were 24. She told me how much she missed home getting her nails done working and being intimate with men.
She still didn’t remember anything about the incident that landed her in jail but felt deeply sorry for what she had done. She talked openly about her illness and said medication and therapy were helping. We cried about the fact that we might not see each other again for a long time. Suddenly it was like the barbed wire fence outside had disappeared and we were sitting back in Chicago at a coffee shop sharing stories. It wasn’t perfect but it was real.
When my husband and I left we drove for nearly an hour in silence holding hands. It was a silence filled with sadness but also a glimmer of hope. I hated the heartbreaking situation Jackie was in. I resented the illness that had put her there but I decided that while this might be part of Jackie’s life now it would not define her.
To me she will always be that sweet girl I looked forward to seeing at the bus stop every day.

Resources to help people with schizophrenia

If you have a friend or family member with schizophrenia you can help by encouraging them to receive treatment and to stick to it. If you don’t know where to find a mental health professional who treats schizophrenia ask your primary care physician to recommend one. You can also reach out to your loved one’s health insurance plan. If you prefer an Internet search the American Psychological Association offers an online search by location and specialty.
The National Institute of Mental Health urges you to remember that schizophrenia is a biological illness that your loved one can’t just shut off. They suggest that the most helpful way to respond to your loved one when he or she says strange or false statements is to understand that they truly believe the thoughts and hallucinations they’re having.

Dealing with change

In her mid-twenties Jackie started acting paranoid and displaying unusual behavior. She confided in me and shared her troubled thoughts. I pleaded with her to get professional help without success. I felt utterly helpless. Despite losing my parents a nephew aunt and grandmother within a four-year span witnessing my childhood friend lose herself to schizophrenia was the most terrifying experience of my life.
I knew there was nothing I could do to keep my loved ones alive — they were dealt incurable diseases — but I always had hope that somehow my support and love for Jackie would help her get well. After all as kids whenever she needed to escape the sadness of her home or vent about a broken heart I was there with an open ear an ice cream cone and a joke or two.
But this time was different. This time I was at a loss.