Adam|er|all Relaunch

After over a year hiatus I am proud to announce my adamerall blog is live again!

Just to refresh your memory the name of my “adamerall” is a play on words… my pen name Adam and one of the medications I take for ADHD which is Adderall. In addition to that I take several other medications; Haldol, an anti-psychotic for Schizophrenia, Cojentin; which is to reduce side-effects of Haldol. Celexa, an anti-depressant for depression. Klonopin, which is for anxiety. Mood stabilizer called Lamictal, which I was recently prescribed. Among others for high blood pressure and whatnot. I don’t want to bore you with the amount meds I take but for informational purposes I will be posting about my experiences with all of my medications in the coming weeks.

So what exactly happened?

First, starting my Spring 2016 semester I was put on a mandated weekly “therapy” session by Farmingdale State College’s dean; Dean Johnson, even though I had voluntarily started going there initially. After my weekly sessions and getting straight As that semester I had missed a [mandated] appointment prior to leaving for Cuba during winter break. When I came back I had called to ask when I could schedule my therapy session to which I found I needed to speak with the school’s dean as my case was closed. Additionally, while registering for one of my required classes I was unable to do so as the dean had put a hold on my account.

My blog went offline and the domain expired. I lost all my blog posts on various topics related to mental health, Trans Mongolian; my book, and my schizophrenia, etc.

I felt like my blog was being watched by the dean.

My psychiatrist, Gerallyn Marchesi, who had been treating me for 4 years, took me off her client list as she was ill and couldn’t continue her practice. I had asked the school mental health office and my therapist to find me a psychiatrist so that I can get prescribed my medications. I had no car and was taking the bus at 6 AM to get to my 8 AM Business Management class. My mandated appointments were based on my therapist’s schedule-which was never accommodating. I remember showing up to my appointment several times only to find out she had called out and they had, apparently, called to let me know. I had received no phone calls. Additionally I would end up being late several times as well as my means of transportation was two Suffolk County buses that either never came on time or never came at all. They would refuse to see me when I was late knowing my circumstances. There were several occasions when I had to take a cab costing me $37 just so that I could make it to my mandated therapy sessions (one time when I showed up it was one of those days when my therapist had called out).

Sure many can say the system is designed to help me and those similar to my condition, but that’s only in an idealistic world. However, the Mental Health Office was actually less therapeutic and Dean Johnson refusing to take the time out to see me to hold the lift on my account as she “assessed” what to do with me.

There were several times when I was on campus I felt as if I was being watched. I was under surveillance. I would call my doctor. She wouldn’t respond but did call back. I would call my therapist. Not only wouldn’t she respond she didn’t bother following up me. There were days when I would go to the library and I would isolate myself upstairs in the most quiet corner I could find. Eventually, my psychiatrist recommended keeping an extra Haldol , the anti-psychotic I take, with me at all times when symptoms of paranoia would arise.

Eventually I lost my psychiatrist, who was my only hope.

Dean never responded to emails or phone calls or messages left with her secretary.

Surprisingly enough I was asked to explain myself for harassing the Dean’s secretary and some girl I had remembered from the previous semester who I just happened to have some small talk in the hallway. She must have complained to Campus Police, which is actually a police department (Farmingdale State College is the safest campus in America). The secretary part I didn’t understand. My therapist had to take a statement from me to send to the dean.

With all these circumstances, I eventually relapsed and ended up in a psych ward for 10 days in April, 2017. The last time I had been to a psych ward was March 2013, 4 years I didn’t relapse and was going in the right direction.

When I got discharged I was finally able to meet Dean Johnson-four months after she had put a hold on my account and was monitoring me.. One thing she said during my meeting with her “I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since you started attending Farmingdale”. That’s something you don’t say to someone that’s a paranoid schizophrenic.

In any case, I’m back in full force and will be updating with re-posting some of my old posts, as well as continuing to be a mental health advocate.

Later this evening I’m attending a support group meeting at NAMI. I will also be posting the free chapters to my book, partially renamed; Trans Mongolian: Memoirs of an American-Muslim Schizoaffective. Last year I was rediagnosed as schizoaffective. More on that later!

Losing Control, One of My Biggest Fears Living with Schizophrenia

I had walked inside my home when the voices started. It was a Sunday evening, April 2nd, 2017, I had just come back from a smoke break outside my home… “Come into my world…” “…I will take care of you…” “I’ll show you the way…” Without hesitation I called Brunswick Hall Psychiatric Hospital, where I was admitted 4 years back. I told them what was going on, they said to hang up and call 911. I hung up the voices roared back again, it was a woman with a seductive voice… “I love you… come, I’ll show you the way.” At that point I lost control of my hands it was as if someone had grabbed me by my arms and led me into the kitchen. I lunged for a big sharp knife on the countertop and was ready to stab my left arm.

The entire time my wife was observing what was going on and intervened when I had grabbed the knife. She yelled, “this isn’t you Adam, this isn’t you!” I realized she was right and I regained control and dropped the knife.

She dragged me to the living room. With her hands against my face she said she’s calling for help. It wasn’t time for my evening medications. Maryam took action, called 911, and in due time the police showed up. I knew this wouldn’t go too well but I cooperated with the EMT.

They took me to Southside Hospital in Bay Shore. When they were letting me in I asked the police officer if I could have a cigarette, something he had promised me once we got to the hospital. “It’s up to them from here on.” I asked the nurse, she said something but it didn’t sound like I was going to get my smoke break. I thought once I had this cigarette that all these racing thoughts in my head would settle down. That’s how it usually worked.

They were taking me for intake. I asked the police officer if I could have a cigarette, I didn’t realize I couldn’t smoke indoors so I put my hand in my jacket pocket to take out my pack. The police officer ran to grab my arm, I dodged, got up and the hospital security guard joined to try and restrain me. It was like a scene from one of those Jason Bourne movies. I kept dodging and they kept trying to grab me until finally the police officer tasered me and I took a few steps and fell to the ground. My wife was also getting restrained by another security guard after she had super kicked the police officer. I felt life come back to me. Turns out the taser helped me appreciate how alive I felt. I was yelling as to what they were doing to my wife as they dragged her out of the room. They had me in handcuffs. The charge nurse came in to talk some sense into me. She asked me to promise to behave and they would take off the handcuffs. I started on my rhetoric banter about how the police and the security was treating us. I calmed down and they took off my handcuffs. I knew I was going to be doing some time.

Drugged up and with very little emotions I had a restless night sleeping in the hospital room they had for me. They didn’t allow any visitors at this place. I didn’t know at which point my wife and I had parted ways. They were transferring me to South Oaks Hospital, telling me that I will have to stay there temporarily for a few days until they get my medication right. I had officially relapse.

Schizophrenia, according to what I was taught in Abnormal Psychology class, is 50% genetic and the remaining are environmental factors such as stress and whatnot. Stress had definitely been a factor as the Dean of Students at Farmingdale State College had, and still has, put my account on hold. It had triggered my Ulcerative Colitis earlier on in the semester as I was going in and out of Emergency Rooms. I was unable to register for one of the classes I needed. I had to attend weekly mandated therapy sessions at the school. To my surprise, someone had complained that I was stalking them, I had found out through my therapist. Therapy was helping on and off but was adding more stress. I just couldn’t figure out why the Dean was putting me through this didn’t have the courtesy to return my phone calls and emails to schedule an appointment. I was expected to graduate with my bachelor’s degree by the summer but it looked like it won’t be for another year that I would have to attend. I had made so many plans but everything came to a halt. I wasn’t driving up until last month when I cleared my suspensions and got a car for myself. Prior to this I would get ready to leave at 4 in the morning Tuesdays and Thursdays to make it in time for my 8 AM Small Business Management class. Public transportation is a joke here in Suffolk County.

I guess I needed a break from all this. I had to spend more time with my family. With my newborn who is growing up so fast. The first thing I did after getting discharged from the hospital was to drop my classes and walk in to see the Dean. I was surprised how she too was looking forward to see me and not avoid me.

Dean Johnson apologized for not getting back to me promptly. I accepted her apology after having a look at her desk with piles of paperwork on it. She said she wants to see me middle of July/August to see how I’m doing and she would lift the hold. To my surprise she told me about how a police report had been made, not just a complaint, by this girl that I had small talk with in the hallway for “stalking her”. Lesson learned; not everyone’s perspective is the same as yours. She also told me how she had been keeping tabs on me for a year and a half now. I felt special and felt tempted to ask why but I knew the answer would be politically correct. It’s wasn’t really brilliant idea for the dean to pass this information onto me knowing that I had stayed in a psychiatric ward for paranoid thoughts. This  only added to my paranoia and my distaste for the college’s administration.

During my stay at South Oaks Hospital I attended all the activities and group therapy sessions they had during the day. I found them all to be very therapeutic. I remember meeting my social worker the first day when I kept yawning which caused her to start yawning as well. It made us laugh but I was heavily sedated. I made friends there that felt that they needed to share with me their personal stories. I broke off a violent fight when this guy decided he wanted to throw a chair at this girl. I felt like I was part of the staff. There was a devil worshiper there that felt like she was the chosen one by the Illuminati. I got along with everyone, including the devil worshiper. Ultimately I waited for the hour to strike 5 so I could see my wife. My older brother and sister came by to visit, as well. The doctors at the hospital stopped the Adderall.

Today, after my first dose of Adderall I have gotten the drive again to start doing things. I met my doctor yesterday and she felt that it is true that I have ADHD. Prior to this I would wake up drop off my wife at work, come back and lay in bed thinking into the abyss. I was wasting time, which I regret, counting every hour before I had to go back to pick up Maryam. It wasn’t like this every day, I would go see my mother too from time to time. She’s always entertaining and gets me engaged. My seven-month-old grabs my attention as well.

I have a renewed drive to go back to school. To finish not only my bachelor’s degree but to go onto finish grad school in mental health counseling. Today after so many weeks of being out of touch I made an attempt to socialize with my school friends.

During the past few weeks what I thought about the most is about losing control. Regretting how losing control caused my independence to be taken away from me. Now I’m dependent again on others. At least until I become productive again, which will probably be a year from now when I graduate with my diploma. Unless someone has other suggestions.

I had drafted some blog posts which didn’t get published. One of them entitled “Society Labels You Insane; When You Know You’re in Charge of Your Sanity”…I guess that’s not the case, society drives you to insanity. I had another exorcism done but I’ll save that for a future blog entry.

I’ve also got another piece in the works which I’ll publish in a few days, it’s an eyewitness account and reflection on the Fort Lauderdale Shootings back in January which I was a victim of. The shooter was hearing voices.