Never mind... I Have Car Insurance

 Never Mind... I Have Car Insurance

Schizophrenia Bulletin, Volume 46, Issue 2 Published 28 November 2018

https://doi.org/10.1093/schbul/sby174 

I had a full time job at an Italian restaurant, and I was flunking out of college. I was just in a relationship that ended badly, and I thought the friends of my former girlfriend were spreading rumors about me. When I was by myself or walking to my job, I often heard mean voices calling me a loser and other bad things. I had stopped going to class because the voices in my head coming from two people or a crowd were making me feel inadequate and alienated. I thought they were making fun of me, for whatever reason.  I know now it was the start of a break down. 

The only thing that was going good for me was that I had good loyal friends that would do whatever I asked them to do. They would listen to me, but they did not have the help that I needed.  As I tried to reach out to them, I know now that some of my behavior might have frightened them.

One day my parents were out of town so they asked me if I could water their plants. I told them I could. The night before I quickly went to bed because of a long shift at the Italian restaurant. In the early hours of the next day I heard something being sawed in the parking lot of my apartment building. Intuition told me it was my car being vandalized, and that it was probably from my ex-girlfriend. Because I was so tired from my long shift, I didn't go out to see what was going on. I figured I would see what had happened in the morning. 

I woke up the next day, had my coffee, and walked to my car in the parking lot of my apartment building. I turned the key and my car started to sputter like a model from the 1920’s. I didn’t know what to do about it, all I know was I had to water my parent’s plants and flowers. Suddenly I hit a bump, and the whole tailpipe started to drag behind my car. 

The combination of the horrid faces of the drivers around me at the stop light and the sound of the tail pipe on the blacktop, made me feel like my psyche was slipping. I thought I was seeing static from my brain which was beginning to crash like a computer. The failure of college and my ex-girlfriend’s friends spreading lies about me were pushing me closer to the bottom. I was in survivor mode.

Fast forward a few years, some classes at the local community college, a job at a private pre-school as a teacher assistant, a stint in the army, and a diagnosis of schizo-affective , and I still had paranoia about people messing with my car. However, I was now taking a medication and had a monthly appointment at the veteran’s hospital with my psychologist and psychiatrist.  I was beginning to learn about Cognitive Behavior Therapy where I searched for evidence before coming to conclusions.

I've noticed that when I have the paranoia about someone messing with my car it's  usually when I have plans for the next day. Plans such as going to the veteran’s hospital, going to my parent’s house, or just anticipating a vacation. I hear voices outside, but I can’t find the faces of the voices. I now park my car in view of my apartment under a street light so I can spring into action if I someone was messing with my car. 

I would tell my psychologist about my paranoia and also my parents. Honestly, just talking about it seemed to help. My parents tried to help me with this paranoia by having me put my car in their garage when I visited them.  I could sleep better knowing my car was safe.

Truth was, I was living in an affluent apartment where a few people would drive better cars then I was driving, such as Mercedes and BMW’s. I drove a Toyota Camry. Also there were some young people in my apartment building who liked to stay up late especially around the weekend. My parents would say that my car would be the last one to mess with because of the more expensive cars in the parking lot. 

My parents would say, even if something happened to my car, the money I got from my disability took care of the car insurance, and if by chance my car was ever vandalized, my insurance was current and paid up.  My car insurance would take care of it. Since I moved here nothing has happened to my car in about six years. Sometimes bad things happen, and you can’t predict them. Sometimes I am awakened by loud voices at night. Sometimes I decide to check them out, and other times I go back to sleep.  

With mental illness comes stigma involving what others might think of me, so in the day time when I am awake I talk with my neighbors, not huge deep conversations, but just greetings. Sometimes the voices I hear in the daytime don’t match the voices at night. There is also the wind that sometimes sounds like a knock at the door. 

Knowing I am okay is all I care about. Material items in my life can be replaced. I am safe inside my apartment, and I am loved by my family.  That is all I need.