Schizoaffective Disorder,  Schizophrenia

5 Things That Help Me When I’m Experiencing Psychosis

Schizoaffective disorder is a rollercoaster. An illness on the schizophrenia spectrum, it is a cocktail of mood symptoms and psychosis that’s well shaken and then lit on fire. Despite taking medications and being in therapy, I do still experience symptoms sometimes, including symptoms of psychosis like hallucinations. And when I’m fighting my way through a sea of psychosis, I don’t expect people to know what to do. For a very long time, I didn’t know what to do either. I spent years bracing myself through my symptoms as I waited for medication adjustments to take effect. But with every episode of psychosis that I’ve endured, I’ve learned new things about what helps me when it crawls under my skin. Here are five things that others can do that help me when I am struggling with symptoms of psychosis due to my schizoaffective disorder.

1) Explain everything, then repeat.

If I’m paranoid, hallucinating, or dealing with any number of other symptoms, my mind may be sent spinning. There have been times where I can’t keep up with the chaos going on in my head. And in these moments, I feel more secure if I know what’s going on outside of my head.

Tell me everything you are going to do before you do it. Explain what you want to do, be that sit down with me on the couch or take me to a hospital. Your words may have to break through a storm of symptoms and emotional dysregulation. On top of that, illnesses involving psychosis often come with cognitive issues. These can make it even harder for me to focus, process, or remember what you’ve said. Even if you just said it.

2) Give me a choice.

When I feel as though I’ve lost control of my mind, having even a simple choice can feel incredibly humanizing. When I was first diagnosed, I was lucky to be just stable enough to be given the option of whether or not to go into inpatient treatment. To be able to be the one to make that decision made me feel like I still had some shred of control left over my life. Should things peak and crisis comes crashing down, even being able to decide things like whether we sit on the couch or stand while calling my psychiatrist can go a long way to making me feel like I am still human.

3) Don’t touch.

One of the things that I think does not get enough attention when it comes to illnesses involving psychosis is emotional dysregulation. When I am experiencing emotional dysregualtion, my thoughts and feelings spin together like they are in a blender. This can leave me unable to sort through them in any way. Everything becomes a negative and the emotional pain can be intense. I can get so caught up in my head that touch that I am not anticipating, even a well-meaning hug or hand on my shoulder, can catch me so far off guard that I may react harshly. Sometimes hugs and pressure do help, but I do best when I am made aware that someone intends on touching me with enough time for me to process that before the contact occurs.

4) Give me a safe place.

My boyfriend and I have designated a room in our house that is my safe space. When I can’t handle what’s going on, I seek peace in our bedroom. Though the walls can’t protect me from my symptoms, they do limit my world to something more manageable. The bedroom is also home to my weighted blanket. It is where I keep the wraps I put on my arms when I need pressure to calm my screaming nerve endings. And it is the permanent location of simple, but essential things like a phone charger so I don’t lose access to calls, texts, and music. No location feels safe from symptoms, but the safe space we have created in the bedroom has been essential for getting me through difficult days and nights.

5) Remain neutral.

When I’m caught up in hallucinations and delusions, you may think I’m being dramatic. You may think I’m overreacting. But to me, my emotions and responses are completely warranted. And if you try to convince me otherwise, it will likely only make me feel worse. It may even lead me to pull away and either seek support elsewhere, or not at all.

Remain as neutral as possible. If I say I’m hearing something, you can confirm that you understood what I said. But do not lie and say my hallucinations and delusions are real. Similarly, don’t counter me to try to get me to see reason. In this kind of situation, reason may be long gone. And it is also not your responsibility to fix everything for me. But I am grateful for those who are there to offer emotional support and help me find whatever help is appropriate.

I’ve been on both sides of this and neither is an experience I would wish on anyone.

I know that supporting someone through symptoms of psychosis can be frightening, heartbreaking, and frustrating all at once. And I know that experiencing these symptoms and trying to fight for stability when I’m able can feel like trying to stitch together the shattered pieces of my mind. But for some of us, losing touch with reality is a very real part of our reality. And knowing how to support a loved one going through psychosis can be game changing for all involved.

Though the above five things have worked for me and others I know, they may not be helpful to everyone. If you have a loved one with any mental illness or brain disease or live with one yourself, I encourage you to come up with some things that will be helpful or that loved ones should know should severe symptoms present. Proactively coming up with a plan that will help when symptoms strike can be lifesaving.

2 Comments

  • Margaret Collins

    LOVE your candid and insightful perspective of the disorder you live with so well. Do you ever mentor other people with schizoaffective who are surviving and slightly thriving? My son is a success story in the fact he’s been symptom free since his schizoaffective diagnosis in 2019, for 4 years, with abilify 30 day injection. His path isn’t as clear as yours and he struggles even admitting that he ever had the illness. My gut feeling is his fear of being committed if he admits he’s had non-conventional thoughts. So convincing others he’s fine is likely safest.
    Currently, I do feel like i have my son back. I do feel that he has survived a traumatic experience, and is able to empathize with his wife and family and the trauma/drama we experienced too. We’re just holding our breath that we can keep, what looks like a healthy 34 year old husband and father of 2 boys.
    My son has a degree in creative writing. If you do mentor others it could give him the confidence to share his experience too, and grow in the acceptance that it’s OK to be Not like the Others.

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