The Acceptance of Change

Chapter 5: Shame.

Soon after my father died, I went into the foster care system. That's when I started to feel a bit weird. I began to feel like I was being watched, I saw things that I wouldn't consider people, but only really out of the corner of my eye. I never could really truly see them. I thought nothing of it and just considered it to be paranoia after what had happened.

In my foster family there are 5 other kids. Judy, Carlos, Zack, Freddy, and Elizabeth. They're the ones that witnessed my first schizophrenic episode. My foster parents were out on a date together and told us they were going to be out late. Judy and Carlos were in charge, being the oldest. I was in my room alone. It was late at night when it happened, I don't remember what I was doing or thinking when it happened, but I reportedly ran outside and began to bash my head into the ground. I faintly remember believing my head had lit on fire. Maybe I was trying to put it out. Elizabeth, the youngest, is the one who witnessed this and, doing as any 9 year old would do, ran into the house and started to yell.

"Jonas is head butting the ground outside!" Elizabeth yelled. This would concern anyone, of course, so all of the other foster kids came outside and helped me calm down and to stop. It was the ground so there was nothing more on my face than grass, dirt, and a little bruising. When I realized what I had done, I was ashamed of myself.

My foster parents encouraged me to go see a doctor about what had happened, so I did. I went to see a psychologist named Mr. Marrea. He asked me if I had been feeling more paranoid or anything of the sort the last few months. And I laid it all out for him. I told him I was feeling more paranoid, had been seeing things out of the corner of my eye, and had not remembered this psychotic episode I had just gone through. At the end of our talk together, He diagnosed me with schizophrenia and possibly something that might not exist, known as schizophrenic amnesia. I honestly was terrified, hearing everything about it, but he let me know if I take the medicine he prescribed that he called Fanapt, it should be basically not noticeable and definitely no more episodes. I felt a lot more relieved after that.

After I started taking the medicine that was prescribed to me, my symptoms went away, I felt more confident knowing that I wouldn't experience something like that again, but I still felt ashamed of myself. Probably because of the dirt thing.