A Mother in India

Surreal

It has been a strange week. The weather has added to the strangeness and made it even more surreal. Instead of the blistering heat at this time of the year, rain and hail have lashed the city, washing away the grime and dust making the neem trees in front of my home a sight to behold. The ebony dark trunks and the malachite green leaves. From darkness springs hope?

I have been coming in contact with more families who have been touched by this illness. I see my pain mirrored in the other mother's eyes as we talk about our children. With schizophrenia, pain has become a friend who lingers in the fringes waiting for the weak moment to overwhelm me. A friend who has also taught me to abandon myself to moments of happiness with a searing intensity whenever I am blessed with those moments. As I hear other mothers talk to the p-doc about the difficulties confronting them, I feel a familial bond. I also feel an ache in my heart. Is it their pain?

Its the first time I have seen a p-doc answering so many queries on schizophrenia for a long period of time. The beautiful mother, I met on this site had asked me to come to this place. We sit side by side listening. Later a mother tells me that their p-doc is leaving for a different country so they have to look for another one. I suddenly think, 3500 psychiatrists for nearly six to seven million people afflicted with schizophrenia. These psychiatrists have also to treat people with other mental illnesses.

I also went this week to an organisation which provides help to the mentally ill in government hospitals. A doctor there tells me that a minute and a half is all the time that can be given to an individual in these hospitals. The prescription is written and another person takes his place. Assembly-line psychiatry? The illiterate and the poor who have been diagnosed with schizophrenia stop taking their medications because of the frightening side effects. They are terrified that another illness has taken its place. This organisation helps bring awareness about this illness to these people. I come home and thank God for the blessings he has bestowed on me.

Our temperamental, tuxedo tom-cat has jumped into my lap and is vocalising to be hugged and rocked. A rare privelege. For me. So I must stop.

Thank you for your comments.
Dear Nick,
Yes I hope you can join us too. As always my best wishes to you and your family.

Dear Moeder,
Thank you for your good wishes. I remember you and Cassie in my prayers. I wish you were somewhere near my place dear mother.

Dear Helen.
Thank you for those words of praise. I wonder if I deserve them but they are a soothing balm. Wishing you contentment.

Dear Monica,
I never thought about it till you mentioned it - 'the innate sense of adventure and fun'. Schizophrenia could not and will not ever touch that. I am so sure that this spirit of adventure and fun will help us tread more happy paths together.

Dear Heather,
You are so right about how someone who has this illness must not hide the turmoil within. Expressing ones feelings, good or bad does help. My best wishes to you and your son.

Posted by survivor at May 1, 2004 04:33 AM