In Alabama And Scared

When I arrived in Alabama I found out that I would be living on a catfish farm. Now remember that I am a city girl. I am definitely not used to living in the country. The nearest Wal-Mart was about thirty minutes away!

After about a month I went off my medications. We could not afford them. I had no insurance or income at the time. A bottle of my medications cost a few hundred dollars. Besides I started feeling better. I felt that I did not need any medications.

Boy was I wrong! I found out later that schizophrenia is a chronic condition. While there is no cure for my brain disorder but it is treatable with life long medications and therapy.

One day I noticed my step mom holding a knife. Most people would know she was using it for gardening purposes. However my mind was getting ill again and I did not realize it. I thought my step mom was going to kill me. I went to the neighbors house and told them what was going on. They tried to assure me that she meant no harm. I knew they were wrong. I started walking to the church with my bible.

This church was several hours away. I had been walking for about twenty minutes and it was starting to get dark out. My dad was looking for me in his truck. He found me walking and took me back home.

The next day my dad took me to the hospital. I told all of the staff that I could not go home. I believed my step mom wanted to kill me. I got put into the emergency room. I was supposed to stay in my room but I had a habit of wandering around the hallway. In the room next to me was a young couple. The door was open and I stood out smiled and said hello. They said “There she is!” and seemed happy to see me. I took out my candle and a coin with a bible verse on it. I gave the couple my gifts and said it was for good luck. They thanked me.

The next day I got transferred to a mental ward by an ambulance. Even if you are not losing your mind already, staying in mental ward is a sure way to lose your mind! Everyday I would ask my doctor “When can I leave?” The doctor told me I would be going to a group home. I stayed in the mental ward for two weeks.

I lived in a group home for two months. I hated being there! I had completely lost my freedom. I felt confined. They told me when to eat and when to sleep. I called my dad daily asking him to take me away. Dad told me I was not ready to go home just yet. Every other weekend I was able to go home. I carried Bear around with me everywhere. He was my comfort, my companion. He was there to console me and protect me when I needed him.

Dad realized how miserable I was. He took me out of the group home. He could not stand seeing me so sad. The administrator told him if he took me out he would be responsible for buying my medicines. He took me out anyways. He hated seeing his little girl living this way.

I remember how ecstatic I was when I left the group home! I could not believe it! I was free! I was home again. This was my second bout with schizophrenia. This time I knew for sure that there was something wrong with my brain. I was just unaware of how severe my condition was.