Taking on Goliath (And Winning)

  Adults at Play               Recently, I saw the movie “The Sandlot.” I had watched this movie before, and one scene is always a highlight for me. It is the scene when the boys finally get over the fence. They followed “The beast” to a pit filled with baseballs so many it was hard to count all of them.             Sanchez says, “Now we can play forever.”             Isn’t that the secret…playing forever?             I was reminded of my time as a pre-school teacher’s aide. One of my favorite commands after I tied a shoe or wiped a nose was “Go play.” They knew what that meant. Also, how could I forget children pulling me to play along? How could I not?             “Mr. Jason, play with me!!” ...

 Motivation for Writing Schizophrenia Bulletin, Volume 45, Issue 6, November 2019, Pages 1165-1166 https://doi.org/10.1093/schbul/sby042       In addition to my first person account writings, I like to write poetry.  Should someone ask me to use an analogy to describe my writing process, I would answer that writing to me is like water skiing.  In writing, as in water skiing, there is that tug that I feel when an idea tries to take hold.  My schizophrenia causes words to just pop up, and sometimes I have to maneuver around them, not knowing what will make sense.  All it takes is an idea to pull me up, and I hold onto it, letting the words flow.      In water skiing there may be a few wakes to cross or obstacles to dodge in the path.  I try to get all my ideas down on paper, knowing that some of my written thoughts will be edited to make my writing clear and easier to understand.  Sometimes I am the only one who knows e...

  My Schizophrenia Checklist Schizophrenia Bulletin, volume 52, issue 1, January 2026, sbac 207 https://doi.org/10.1093/schbul/sbac207 published : 19 January 2023               One important milestone in my schizophrenia recovery story happened when I was staying in a homeless respite. I had been hospitalized, and this was the next step to my beginning to live on my own again. I was beginning to feel clearer, and the medication I had been prescribed started to take hold. Gradually my symptoms started to subside. I accepted that I did, in fact, have schizophrenia and all the doctors I had talked to were right. I understood schizophrenia was a severe mental illness, and its symptoms of delusions and hearing voices might not ever fully go away. I wanted to understand the general symptoms of my brain disease. I began to make a checklist of my symptoms that I took to my therapy sessions with my psychiatrist. I could s...

  Summer Rain   Steam breathing from the asphalt As I smell the summer rain Falling from daydream blue skies and bitesize cotton ball clouds Not regretting I got my car washed before Love these cool breeze moments Never lose sight of the tip-toe sprinkles While walking to my mailbox Neighbor trying to get her steps in Went back to my apartment To listen to the discord of my youth On my vinyl, best friend memories

  Words. How I Use Them             Do you remember the old saying heard on the playground, “Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words can never hurt me?” People often throw around words like “crazy” or “psychotic” to describe those with a mental health diagnosis. The word “psychotic” is not necessarily a stigmatizing word, but people sometimes use it as an insult. Most of the insults I have experienced are inside my head when my paranoia or delusions take over. Self-stigmatizing can also be a product of our experiences.             I experienced hazing in the military. If it were not for that event, it would likely have been some other traumatic event to bring out my schizophrenia. Yes, I said it: I have schizophrenia, specifically schizoaffective disorder. An urgent call by my parents to the police made me realize I needed help. Those events, as horrible as th...

  Be an above Average Whiteboy             I was in my sophomore year of high school and on my way to screen printing class when a black student put his fist up to the sun and shouted, “It’s your world Whitey!”             I instantly thought, “My world? I don’t want it! You take it!”             The student was also in my screen-printing class, and later in the year, we actually became friends, such good friends that one day he asked me what my nationality was. I thought he was asking about my speech impediment-it did give a slight accent.             He told me that he knew about my speech impediment, and he didn’t care about that. He added that he never got along this well with a white person. I could relate to his statement because I had never gotten alo...