MHM Magazine

Issue 1 | 2023 | MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS | 31 MHM I am not a psychoanalyst, neither am I a behaviourist. However, I believe that incorporating these particular mindsets will provide a better understanding around what I’m about to share with you. During my primary education I was a dedicated student with high potential, especially within the scope of subjects related to science. This changed dramatically during fourth grade. During this period of my life, I started hearing a female voice encouraging me to deliberately engage in activities that would get me into significant trouble. I became anxious and perpetually confused without a safe outlet. I found myself isolated, without anyone to safely share my experiences with. I convinced myself not to share what I was going through, in fear of possible rejection and being unfairly judged. I was afraid and embarrassed. I truly thought I was the only person in the world who heard such voices. Ultimately hiding my own personal trauma became my downfall. In my effort to appear unaffected, I ended up displaying unusual behaviour compared to my peers. I remember vividly being caught out by a teacher during an episode that involved me talking to the classroom walls. This was made substantially worse by the berating and humiliation, intentional or unintentional, I would receive from other students – people I considered my friends. My academic performance plummeted. I felt alone, without anyone to turn to. Thankfully, my class teacher who had noticed my irregular behaviour made the decision to meet with my mum. Although I wasn’t privy to that conversation, afterwards my mum and I had a one on one talk. I made the decision to tell the truth, to let go of the embarrassment and was honest with my mother. Her reaction to my admission was understandable, but confusing nonetheless. She was shaken, worried and confused. I understood, because I felt the same emotions, but I can’t say that the theories of being possessed or bewitched didn’t hurt. I already felt isolated, so this didn’t help. I went along uneasily with the proposed traditional treatment plans of consulting a sangoma, and then a pastor, because at that age with very little access to information, I knew no other alternative but to trust my elders. Traditional and religious intervention did not prevail. The hallucinations persisted, creating further negative impact for me in class. My teacher became worried and referred the matter to a colleague. More discussions ensued and it was recommended that I attend a special needs school. At that time, it was suspected that I suffered from ADHD, although there was no official diagnosis. Following their recommendations, I was enrolled into such a school. However, various IQ tests established that indeed, I didn’t have a learning disability, and I found myself being transferred back to a normal secular school. Again this didn’t quell the hallucinations or improve my behaviour. The unfortunate tipping point came when I tried to end my life. Suddenly, I was thrust into a psychiatric ward of a hospital for two months. I left, medicated and without knowing my diagnosis – but I left nonetheless, free from hallucinations for the first time in a long time. I began to excel in my personal and academic life. I became a high achiever at school. But soon followed the downfall. Following my newfound freedom, I began indulging in alcohol. I became complacent when it came to taking my medication. I thought I was in control, but that was far from the reality of my diagnosis. I found myself admitted back into hospital, my freedom gone, and the hallucinations back in full force. After a difficult month of stabilisation in hospital, the diagnosis was shared with me. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and entered a lengthy treatment plan. After a while, I began to reap the benefits of such a treatment plan. My mood and concentration levels drastically improved. I found the diagnosis compelling, even intriguing. Understanding the human mind and its lack of limitations was a wonder to me. I knew this was something I would pursue. I went on to complete my first year at university, majoring in psychology. My story doesn’t end there, it continues to write itself. Complacency reared its ugly head again. The cloud of alcohol hung low over my life. The disease, left unchecked, became debilitating, SCHIZOPHRENIA LIVING WITH... By Ntetheleo Cebekhulu