TLDR: Mom went into psychosis when I was 17, I am now 23F, and don’t see the point of living or doing anything if I’m just going to end up like her. Looking for life advice, other stories, and general commentary. Anything helps, really.
Hi, I’m currently a college student, and my mother went into psychosis when I was around 17 years old. I’m 23F, and south asian for reference. I was the first in my family to recognize that something was off about her at the beginning of her psychotic episode, but no one believed me. Her descent was slow and gradual, and by the time I realized what was happening, it felt like it was too late. Her delusions started off with what, at the time, seemed like normal issues; I would come home from high school and be greeted with her ranting about how the upstairs neighbors in our apartment complex were talking poorly about her and her ethnicity. As the months passed, it turned into delusions about them breaking into our house and threatening to harm me or rob us of our valuables. I thought it was strange that a relatively calm family would speak so ill of us in that manner, but I had no reason to disbelieve my mother. I began to suspect something was amiss once I began to catch my mother talking to herself, almost as though she was conversing with someone in the room, but the room was dead empty. The delusions she would report to my father and me worsened as time went on, and a year and a half later, she would cry to us about how the government put a chip in her brain and was listening to everything we were saying. That said authority figure was also conducting some sort of study on post-menopausal women and was, as she put it, remotely sexually harassing her. Strange beliefs to say the least, and it became evident to me that she likely suffers from paranoid schizophrenia, if not at the very least psychosis. It was difficult to say the least, to watch her descend into, forgive my stigmatizing words, madness from the ages of 17 until now. My mother was an accomplished woman in her lifetime; she has a bachelor’s, two master’s, and a PhD. She used to be a professor and would take me to her classes as a kid when she couldn’t find a babysitter. She did everything they tell you to in life: got an education, moved to America, got married, lives in a wonderful suburb, had children, etc. However, it wasn’t until her late 50’s that she began developing this issue.
When I voiced my concerns about my mothers mental health, I was immediately shot down. Told that I was imagining things, that everything was fine and I need not stick my nose in the business of adults. A big reason for that, I believe, is culture. Both of my parents are South Asian boomers that align themselves with more holistic methods of medicine. They find issue with the psychiatric industry, and deny that anything is psychiatrically wrong with my mother. I don’t entirely blame them for this, it’s quite normal for older or more conservative members of the South Asian community to not seek life saving treatment, whether it be for mental health, substance abuse, etc under the pretense of, “what will other people say”. Add on top of that, the general stigma against schizophrenia in our society, as well as the, some might say, rightful apprehension some might have against our psychiatric industry. The same industry that was (and is in cases) notorious for the mistreatment of patients with mental health issues. A part of me, in retrospect as I sit now and type this, doesn’t blame my parents for not seeking help.
My father believes that my mother has had black magic cast against her, and thus thinks the voices that she hears and talks to need to be prayed away. However, finding a “priest” who’s capable of doing this has been hard for him, so alas, he has taken (to my knowledge) little to no action in seeking proper care for her. My mother, on the other hand, suffers from what I believe to be anosognosia. If I’m to walk up to her and tell her that I’m concerned that she’s parroting ideas of the government putting a chip in her brain and recommend taking her to a psychiatrist, or a general physician at the least, I’m met with eyerolls and a puff of air that reeks of annoyance as I’m told, “that’s exactly what THEY want you to think. There is nothing wrong with me”. They alluding to what I can only imagine to be the government.
I’ve been helplessly watching my mother’s descent into madness over the past 5 years, and it’s been the most excruciating experience of my life. I lost my mother to a degenerative disease that slowly turned her own brain chemicals against her. I also lost my ability to see myself in the future.
What’s the point of life? This is a question that most people alive find themselves asking. There are entire religions and philosophies claiming to understand the answer to this question: catholicism, hinduism, nihilism, etc. When I was younger, I often wondered why I was put on this Earth, and it felt like an enlightening experience to figure out the answer to this question. However, after watching my mothers descent into this unforgiving illness, one that spreads like a virus and affects not just the host (my mother) but those around her (family and friends), I find myself asking this question in a much darker tone.
Schizophrenia as far as we know can be passed down genetically, meaning there is a possibility that I can meet the same fate as her. I’ve spent the last 5 years playing with this idea in my head on a near daily basis, and I find that both then and now, I find myself descending into my own form of madness wrapping my mind around this. I look in the mirror and very honestly don’t recognize myself anymore. I’ve become depressed, more so that I ever have. What’s the point of doing anything if I’m to end up like her? I’m failing out of college, I’ve spent the last 5 years numbing myself with food and drugs and partying. I went from being a straight A student with plans for my future, to now struggling to get out of bed and do my work. I find myself on a near daily basis staring at my computer screen yelling at myself to get my life in order, to read and do my homework for my classes, to shower, to nourish my body with whole foods. And yet, day after day I find myself unable to do any of the above. I spend my time dilly dalllying, scrolling on social media, and crying myself to sleep.
What is the point of working towards anything if there’s a possibility of me ending up like her?
The second part of this whole ordeal that I find the most difficult to grapple with is how isolating this whole experience has been. Schizophrenia, an illness that impacts less than 1% of the American population. It would be one thing if my mother was suffering from, say, substance abuse. Everyone knows someone that struggles from this, which is unfortunate don’t get me wrong, but you’re not alone in this battle. There are countless books, videos, documentaries, articles, podcasts, support groups, etc tailored to those whose family members are alcoholics, cancer patients, even those with Alzheimer’s or dementia. Schizophrenia on the other hand seems so hidden, so underground if you will. The average American’s experience with schizophrenia is either in passing by those who are homeless and suffering from the illness, or in forms of media like movies or TV shows that associate the illness with extreme forms of violence. Schizophrenia is not understood or intimately experienced by laypeople, which makes it an incredibly isolating journey that I feel like I’m trekking solo. No one my age seems to fully understand how this whole experience has truly turned my understanding of life and the human body into a fragmented maze that I cant seem to escape.
I guess my reason for writing this, aside from the cathartic element of self expression, is to ask: to those who have family members who are schizophrenic (extra brownie points if its a parent), how do you keep going? How have you found the will to keep living your own life despite the drowning feelings of grief or anxiety you experience?
How do I return to a place where I see a future for myself, and am actively working on it in this present moment? I feel so lost, scared, and stagnant.