The Georgie Gust Exhibit

When We Were Invincible by Jonathan Harnisch

Written in the vein of Catcher in the Rye or The World According to Garp, When We Were Invincible is a coming-of-age novella, which details the experiences of outsider Georgie Gust navigating the fictional St. Michael’s Academy, a prestigious East Coast boarding school. Georgie suffers from Tourette’s Syndrome and early onset schizophrenia, which makes his journey all the more poignant.In addition to When We Were Invincible, I have written several screenplays and the semi-autobiographical novel, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography. My own diagnosis of Tourette’s Syndrome and other mental illnesses informs my work and helps educate the public on what it is to live with these disabilities.

Etch-A-Sketch On Acid

Etch A Sketch On Acid: Mind-Blowing Artwork Short Film w/ Sketches and Music by Jonathan Harnisch

Foreword Clarion Reviews Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography

Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography Reviewed by Alex FranksOctober 14, 2015This, it is easy to imagine, is what life with mental illness is like for some: full of continuous questioning, rationalization, guilt, anxiety.Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography presents a simultaneously dazzling and frightening portrayal of mental illness through the eyes of several characters—though all embodied in the same being.The complex narrative is seemingly told from the viewpoint of Benjamin J. Schreiber, son of a wealthy blue-blood family who converses with his doctor (known as C). The privilege afforded to him by birth enables him to live relatively well off; his multitude of diagnoses, including Tourette’s and schizoaffective disorder, would effectively render him incapable of functioning in society under other circumstances. However, Ben doesn’t wish to talk about himself with Dr. C, but rather a fictional counterpart, Georgie Gust.Georgie, like Ben, comes from an aristocratic family and views reality from a different vantage. An obsessive coffee drinker and chain smoker, he maintains a quiet (though sordid) existence on the outside, a rich sexual life in private. Early in the text, an erotic scene focusing on his foot fetishism appears in exacting detail. This proves to be the most tame of Georgie’s passions, as soon he begins his sadomasochistic conquest of Claudia, an older woman whom he hires to torture him. This, too, is richly rendered, as Georgie is teased with dripping wax, hot pans, and psychological distress. The two become dependent upon each other, hating yet needing their company, and their relationship evolves into a bizarre reimagining of the American Dream, one in which we are privy to the seedy reality underneath the polished exterior.Forced to confront the darker nature of desire, An Alibiography shocks and confuses as the narrative unspools itself with a randomness that evokes a questioning of reality. This, it is easy to imagine, is what life with mental illness is like for some: full of continuous questioning, rationalization, guilt, and anxiety. In many respects, this work can be compared to Alasdair Gray’s 1982, Janine, in which a businessman obsesses over his sadomasochistic desires and dreams, seeking meaning in his own marginalized existence. Harnisch’s work, however, employs many main characters embodied in the same man, building realities within realities that often cannot be constructed into a cohesive narrative.At over eight hundred pages, the subject loses shock value and becomes mundane. As Georgie and Claudia’s passion evolves and intensifies, and the novel ventures into the completely surreal, disgusting, and criminal, the oversaturation of violence and S&M confuses the message. Mental illness is romanticized at points in the text, as well, which may leave some familiar with the realities with an unsavory taste. That’s not to say the work isn’t well written—it’s carefully plotted with well-rendered characters, presented in a narrative that would appropriately be deemed “schizophrenic.”However, upon reaching the end, there is an exhaustion. Perhaps, though, this is in itself a meaning: that life with mental illness is difficult and confusing, yet produces a desperation for understanding.?ALEX FRANKS (October 14, 2015)— Foreword Clarion Reviews

Living Colorful Beauty by Jonathan Harnisch

At the opening of Living Colorful Beauty, the reader is presented with two protagonists. There’s Ben, the narrator of the preface, who relates the story of the awful sex education classes he sat through in middle school and of his subsequent discovery of his father’s collection of pornography; and then there’s Georgie, a sexual submissive with a foot fetish, who is obsessed with his beautiful and manipulative next-door neighbor Claudia. As the story progresses, however, it becomes clear that Georgie and Ben share a single three-dimensional body. Georgie is a character in a novel Ben is writing, and Ben maintains that Georgie is in fact no more than a literary device.  However, it is clear almost immediately that this is not the case. Throughout his life, Ben has received a number of psychiatric diagnoses, ranging from Tourette’s Syndrome to borderline personality disorder to schizoaffective disorder, and he displays some traits of all of these.  Yet amid all these diagnoses, the one thing that seems to have slipped under the radar thus far is his tendency towards emotional dissociation, which is closely related to post-traumatic stress syndrome. It is this dissociative tendency that has led Ben to create Georgie, a safe repository for the emotions and desires – primarily sexual – that Ben himself is unable to process. Initially, therefore, the life of Ben and Georgie is fairly well ordered.  It is clear from the start that Ben has issues relating to women: his romantic life has been a string of broken relationships and missed opportunities, and though he needs love desperately he finds himself overcome by fear around women.  Whenever this issue arises, Ben retreats into Georgie’s relationship with Claudia.  Claudia is compelling, manipulative, emotionally abusive, and tremendously sensual.  She controls Georgie completely, only allowing him sex at certain times, alternately telling him she loves him and that she couldn’t care less about him, telling him she won’t sleep with him and then inviting him to watch her sleep with other men and other women.  Yet Georgie is inextricably drawn to her, accepting all of the emotional pain that comes with his relationship with her as long as he can continue to hope that she may sleep with him again.  The sex they share is gritty and fetish-laden, with strong overtones of sadomasochism and violence, and their relationship itself is sustained entirely by Georgie’s obsession.  Yet he is unable to let Claudia go.  Similarly, Ben claims that Georgie’s relationship with Claudia is based on his own relationship with Heidi – yet as the story progresses, we learn that Heidi is a lesbian whom Ben met once some months ago when she was in town for a conference, and that after one night, she left town and Ben had never heard from her again.  In Ben’s relationship with Heidi, mirrored in his imagining of Georgie’s relationship with Claudia, it is clear that his interest is not in Heidi but rather in the image of Heidi, which, in the absence of the real Heidi, Ben can mold into whatever he needs her to be.  Heidi is the locus of Ben’s obsession, as Claudia is the locus of Georgie’s; however, the root of these obsessive tendencies lies somewhere else entirely. 

Chance Encounter

A chapter from “Sex, Drugs, and Schizophrenia by Jonathan Harnisch”.Harnisch (Second Alibi, 2014, etc.) offers a novel that investigates the fractured mind of a schizophrenic.“Let’s get the facts straight up front, to avoid any confusion later,” the author states at the start of this wild, candid book. “I am a person first, a human being, just like anyone else. Maybe a little different, that’s all.” That difference is a diagnosis of schizophrenia, and this extensive work explores the realities of mental illness through a whirlwind of fictional, narrative pieces and personal reflections. Along the way, it takes readers to places of depravity and confusion. Its characters include Ben Schreiber, a precocious but mentally ill youngster in Armani jeans, who explains his troubled life to the ever-calm Dr. C, after trying to rob a bank with a cellphone. Schreiber discusses his alter ego, Georgie Gust, a masochist and foot-fetishist, who’s wealthy enough to pay his neighbor Claudia to torture him; indeed, he seems capable of enduring any type of humiliation, so long as it doesn’t involve actually working. The first-person narrator regularly interrupts the proceedings to offer generally off-topic details: “(Parenthetical Pet Peeve) Commercials for unappetizing products shown at meal times…feminine hygiene products, jock itch, yeast infections, etc.” The scattered narrative uses diverse literary mechanisms, to say the least, mixing elements such as journal entries, a screenplay, a straightforward melodrama involving a Tourette’s sufferer at a private school, occasional celebrity name-dropping (“I met Joanna Cassidy, Dick Van Dyke, Robert Downey Jr, Mel Gibson, and others”), and a dapper figure named John Marshal, who, when asked his opinion of a party, responds, “I’d scarcely be a good judge of that…. My life is taken up with writing.” Making sense of it all in any traditional way, it would seem, isn’t really the point. From horrific scenes of child abuse (“She did. She raped me. My grandmother”) to glimpses of triumph (“I can start taking control of my life”), this long book’s many scenes of anguish and hope are difficult to take in, by any estimation. Whether readers will find the difficulty worthwhile depends largely on their tolerance for twisted tales.                  A repetitive, explicit, fractured, lengthy and honest book, with an overall effect that mimics the confusion of its title.In this chapter, Harnisch’s Ben encounters Heidi in a convenience store parking lot. She is in town for a psychiatry convention and decided to get her nails done. He gives her a pedicure in her hotel room. They meet and walk in the neighborhoods and along the beach. Heidi encourages him to write. She skips her conference class and has a bath instead. Ben joins her and gives a foot massage. Ben finds his writing block has gone.The collected writings of Jonathan Harnisch mark a magnificent contribution to the public understanding of mental illness through a masterpiece of transgressive fiction with a heart. The general reader is finally able to see mainstream literary author Jonathan Harnisch at his best. Sex, Drugs, and Schizophrenia contain the works of 2014, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography and Second Alibi: The Banality of Life, in one complete streaming narrative. The monumental scale of Harnisch’s achievement through adversity flourishes and can now be appreciated in this diverse, invaluable, and thought-provoking collection of fragmented fiction, which will make your brain spin as Harnisch's sense of the inner machinations within the human experience spring into life through the written word. It forces one to question reality and step into another world wanting the protagonist and his alter ego to get it together and be okay. The author reveals himself through a series of alibis in the day-to-day meetings of multiple personalities, a corner of psychiatry that is hardly understood, and shedding light on the experiences of schizophrenia in a language that the non-sufferer can understand, albeit from the author who suffers himself. Not for the faint of heart, this fictionalized account of a disparate mind triumphs.

#MentalHealthAwarenessWeek Status Update

#MentalHealthAwarenessWeek Status Update: Every week should be #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek. It's always time to talk about #mentalhealth and #mentalillness: However, this morning I have come to realize that there is nothing more liberating and freeing than deciding to and committing to NOT doing, taking the full day off all work and activities, canceling all meetings, and so forth, just because I am overworked, and without sleep for days struggling with schizoaffective disorder, a mental disorder characterized by abnormal thought processes and deregulated emotions, in my case fluctuating with both bipolar disorder and depression. My diagnosis has been made because I have features of both #schizophrenia and a mood disorder. Mine has been recently aggravated with chronic insomnia. My responsibilities have already been taken care of. I simply NEED to, must and will stop everything and take the full day completely off, and I am. Right now. Thank you for sticking around as you are. I promise I will be checking things online and off throughout the day and be back another time, but beginning immediately I am committed to doing absolutely nothing in meditative contemplation and hopefully with some sleep. My day has been responsibly arranged, my friends, family, colleagues and associates are aware and understanding of my important and necessary decision at this point, to better my own mental and physical health while otherwise completely stressed out, overwhelmed, and totally exhausted. Thank you for understanding, especially being #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek, which makes up for a great deal within my specialty, advocating and inspiring through mental health artistic endeavors. I will catch up with you all tomorrow and be back as usual. You can find me on Facebook and Twitter. I am an author who has written semi-fictional and semi-autobiographical bestselling novels, Jonathan Harnisch: An Alibiography and Second Alibi: The Banality of Life, which are available on Amazon and through most major booksellers. I am also a noted, and sometimes controversial, outspoken author, mental-health advocate, fine artist, blogger, podcast host, patent holder, hedge-fund manager, musician, and film and TV writer and producer; Google me for more information. Thank you again! :)  Sincerely, Jonathan Harnisch

I Have Schizophrenia, But Schizophrenia Does Not Have Me

My name is Jonathan Harnisch. I have schizophrenia with psychotic features, but schizophrenia and psychosis do not have me. I cannot distinguish what is real and what is not real. My thoughts, mood and behavior are altered, and they change frequently. Sometimes I believe that I live in a psychiatric hospital and that my experience is worse than a hellish nightmare. At other times, I don't believe that I am in such a hospital. I see and interact with people who aren’t there, and I battle through countless other extremely uncomfortable symptoms. I believe that my medical team is currently taking me off all my medication. My overall goal online is to continue to inspire hope and resilience as a survivor of severe trauma that has led to dissociative disorders and schizophrenia. However, I struggle, not suffer. I post and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive. I admire people who keep as positive an attitude as they can. Even though we all have our battles and bad days, this simply does not mean that we have a bad life. A negative mind will never give you a positive life. The world suffers greatly due to the silence of good people. Keep going! Keep hope and faith alive! Living with schizophrenia and, therefore, with a brain that from time to time doesn't work means that my life can become difficult. However, I keep moving ahead, as always, knowing deep down inside that I am a good person and that I am worthy of a good life. Given that I’ve been diagnosed with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, borderline personality disorder, brain injury, Tourette’s syndrome, diabetes, anxiety, depression, a rare blood disease, dyslexia, and cancer, I am doing okay. At the end of the storm there is always a golden sky. Writing in general—and writing this piece in particular—helps me by enabling me to stay in the moment and to share my experiences publicly.I have recently had several days completely to myself, which provided me, at first, with certain feelings of abandonment and more solitude than I would otherwise have wanted, alongside moments of agitation, frustration, and anxiety. These feelings have fluctuated with familiar and welcoming times with myself and with my two cats in my home in the guest house of my family’s large property in a small village in New Mexico. I would like to take a moment to mention that prior to 2010 I was always an extremely wealthy and successful person, which made my precise diagnoses with mental illnesses difficult, as I used to be able to pay for the things I needed and wanted. This difficulty was increased because of my natural abilities, as I have always been known to be very smart and I have always taken some pride in being so. I have been able to write volumes about my past, but my goal now is to stay as grounded in the present as I am able to be. This is because a change has occurred in me, something perhaps bordering on the profound. Yesterday, I watched a documentary film called ‘A Sister's Call’ about a man with schizophrenia, and by the end I felt a change in myself. During my overall decline, I lost a great deal of what I had, much like the schizophrenic man portrayed in the movie—until he got better and better over the years. I was able to relate in some ways, although I think that the change in me began years ago, as a boy, when I would often read about schizophrenia and related conditions, as well as self-help material. I have come to realize what I had, what I have, and what I want so far as this pertains to my health, as well as, perhaps, to my lifestyle and, yes, to my life. Independence. I have been and still am dependent on people, as well as tobacco and medication. I have lost a great deal of my cognitive abilities over the past few years—and a great deal more since earlier this year. I continue my journaling as usual, but I feel different, maybe better, maybe not. There is no cure for schizophrenia. I have read about living independently. However, I have overlooked the benefits of being able to take care of myself as far as possible—even this possibility never crossed my mind. Maybe I just had to see this, in the movie, and at this time. I am glad for once. I know what I want and perhaps what I might even need. Independence. I already have a job and a loving wife and people to help me. I began to think about how financially lucky I had once been and how, when losing that, I let my condition get the best of me. I think my illnesses and their unbelievably complex symptoms have caused me blame and denial. Rather than just shifting around my thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs, they have shifted in me, as I now see it. Yesterday I started to plan as efficiently and as realistically as possible, given my limitations, fears, and emotional dysregulation. All in all, I’ll see how it goes. Some bumps have come up already, which is natural, and I’m just giving this independence thing a shot. However, I do have hope. Nothing unrealistic. I have felt a delicate—and relative—equilibrium over the past 24 hours. That is rare. We’ll see how it goes. One day at a time and one step at a time. Easy does it. Once again, I try to make a good day out of what's been, but I end up hidden inside the fog of schizophrenia and asociality. Asociality refers to the lack of motivation to engage in social interaction, or a preference for solitary activities. Poor social and vocational outcomes have long been observed in schizophrenia.I do not like interpersonal relationships or schizophrenia. I prefer to be asocial. I know many people miss me. Everybody does. I often miss myself. I sit and I conclude this, right now, completely alone, alone in the dark.Please help me raise mental health awareness to put an end to the stigma and maltreatment that occur so often regarding those with mental illness and physical disabilities. I continue to keep hope and faith alive. I will move on. I will move on! Thank you for blessing me with your prayers and well-wishes. I sincerely appreciate you, God, and life in general. Keep fighting! Let us who suffer from or struggle with chronic mental health conditions remember that we might have schizophrenia or a mental illness, but it doesn’t have us. We cannot allow it to have us. 

Surviving Schizophrenia Audio Podcast

My name is Jonathan Harnisch. I have schizophrenia with psychotic features, but schizophrenia and psychosis do not have me. I cannot distinguish what is real and what is not real. My thoughts, mood and behavior are altered, and they change frequently. Sometimes I believe that I live in a psychiatric hospital and that my experience is worse than a hellish nightmare. At other times, I don't believe that I am in such a hospital. I see and interact with people who aren’t there, and I battle through countless other extremely uncomfortable symptoms. I believe that my medical team is currently taking me off all my medication. My overall goal online is to continue to inspire hope and resilience as a survivor of severe trauma that has led to dissociative disorders and schizophrenia. However, I struggle, not suffer. I post and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive. I admire people who keep as positive an attitude as they can. Even though we all have our battles and bad days, this simply does not mean that we have a bad life. A negative mind will never give you a positive life. The world suffers greatly due to the silence of good people. Keep going! Keep hope and faith alive! Living with schizophrenia and, therefore, with a brain that from time to time doesn't work means that my life can become difficult. However, I keep moving ahead, as always, knowing deep down inside that I am a good person and that I am worthy of a good life. Given that I’ve been diagnosed with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, borderline personality disorder, brain injury, Tourette’s syndrome, diabetes, anxiety, depression, a rare blood disease, dyslexia, and cancer, I am doing okay. At the end of the storm there is always a golden sky. Writing in general—and writing this piece in particular—helps me by enabling me to stay in the moment and to share my experiences publicly.I have recently had several days completely to myself, which provided me, at first, with certain feelings of abandonment and more solitude than I would otherwise have wanted, alongside moments of agitation, frustration, and anxiety. These feelings have fluctuated with familiar and welcoming times with myself and with my two cats in my home in the guest house of my family’s large property in a small village in New Mexico. I would like to take a moment to mention that prior to 2010 I was always an extremely wealthy and successful person, which made my precise diagnoses with mental illnesses difficult, as I used to be able to pay for the things I needed and wanted. This difficulty was increased because of my natural abilities, as I have always been known to be very smart and I have always taken some pride in being so. I have been able to write volumes about my past, but my goal now is to stay as grounded in the present as I am able to be. This is because a change has occurred in me, something perhaps bordering on the profound. Yesterday, I watched a documentary film called ‘A Sister's Call’ about a man with schizophrenia, and by the end I felt a change in myself. During my overall decline, I lost a great deal of what I had, much like the schizophrenic man portrayed in the movie—until he got better and better over the years. I was able to relate in some ways, although I think that the change in me began years ago, as a boy, when I would often read about schizophrenia and related conditions, as well as self-help material. I have come to realize what I had, what I have, and what I want so far as this pertains to my health, as well as, perhaps, to my lifestyle and, yes, to my life. Independence. I have been and still am dependent on people, as well as tobacco and medication. I have lost a great deal of my cognitive abilities over the past few years—and a great deal more since earlier this year. I continue my journaling as usual, but I feel different, maybe better, maybe not. There is no cure for schizophrenia. I have read about living independently. However, I have overlooked the benefits of being able to take care of myself as far as possible—even this possibility never crossed my mind. Maybe I just had to see this, in the movie, and at this time. I am glad for once. I know what I want and perhaps what I might even need. Independence. I already have a job and a loving wife and people to help me. I began to think about how financially lucky I had once been and how, when losing that, I let my condition get the best of me. I think my illnesses and their unbelievably complex symptoms have caused me blame and denial. Rather than just shifting around my thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs, they have shifted in me, as I now see it. Yesterday I started to plan as efficiently and as realistically as possible, given my limitations, fears, and emotional dysregulation. All in all, I’ll see how it goes. Some bumps have come up already, which is natural, and I’m just giving this independence thing a shot. However, I do have hope. Nothing unrealistic. I have felt a delicate—and relative—equilibrium over the past 24 hours. That is rare. We’ll see how it goes. One day at a time and one step at a time. Easy does it. Once again, I try to make a good day out of what's been, but I end up hidden inside the fog of schizophrenia and asociality. Asociality refers to the lack of motivation to engage in social interaction, or a preference for solitary activities. Poor social and vocational outcomes have long been observed in schizophrenia.I do not like interpersonal relationships or schizophrenia. I prefer to be asocial. I know many people miss me. Everybody does. I often miss myself. I sit and I conclude this, right now, completely alone, alone in the dark.Please help me raise mental health awareness to put an end to the stigma and maltreatment that occur so often regarding those with mental illness and physical disabilities. I continue to keep hope and faith alive. I will move on. I will move on! Thank you for blessing me with your prayers and well-wishes. I sincerely appreciate you, God, and life in general. Keep fighting! Let us who suffer from or struggle with chronic mental health conditions remember that we might have schizophrenia or a mental illness, but it doesn’t have us. We cannot allow it to have us. 

Surviving Schizophrenia Video Podcast

My name is Jonathan Harnisch. I have schizophrenia with psychotic features, but schizophrenia and psychosis do not have me. I cannot distinguish what is real and what is not real. My thoughts, mood and behavior are altered, and they change frequently. Sometimes I believe that I live in a psychiatric hospital and that my experience is worse than a hellish nightmare. At other times, I don't believe that I am in such a hospital. I see and interact with people who aren’t there, and I battle through countless other extremely uncomfortable symptoms. I believe that my medical team is currently taking me off all my medication. My overall goal online is to continue to inspire hope and resilience as a survivor of severe trauma that has led to dissociative disorders and schizophrenia. However, I struggle, not suffer. I post and publish what I want and what I feel, no matter what mood or state of mind I am in, but I always do my best to keep things positive. I admire people who keep as positive an attitude as they can. Even though we all have our battles and bad days, this simply does not mean that we have a bad life. A negative mind will never give you a positive life. The world suffers greatly due to the silence of good people. Keep going! Keep hope and faith alive! Living with schizophrenia and, therefore, with a brain that from time to time doesn't work means that my life can become difficult. However, I keep moving ahead, as always, knowing deep down inside that I am a good person and that I am worthy of a good life. Given that I’ve been diagnosed with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, borderline personality disorder, brain injury, Tourette’s syndrome, diabetes, anxiety, depression, a rare blood disease, dyslexia, and cancer, I am doing okay. At the end of the storm there is always a golden sky. Writing in general—and writing this piece in particular—helps me by enabling me to stay in the moment and to share my experiences publicly.I have recently had several days completely to myself, which provided me, at first, with certain feelings of abandonment and more solitude than I would otherwise have wanted, alongside moments of agitation, frustration, and anxiety. These feelings have fluctuated with familiar and welcoming times with myself and with my two cats in my home in the guest house of my family’s large property in a small village in New Mexico. I would like to take a moment to mention that prior to 2010 I was always an extremely wealthy and successful person, which made my precise diagnoses with mental illnesses difficult, as I used to be able to pay for the things I needed and wanted. This difficulty was increased because of my natural abilities, as I have always been known to be very smart and I have always taken some pride in being so. I have been able to write volumes about my past, but my goal now is to stay as grounded in the present as I am able to be. This is because a change has occurred in me, something perhaps bordering on the profound. Yesterday, I watched a documentary film called ‘A Sister's Call’ about a man with schizophrenia, and by the end I felt a change in myself. During my overall decline, I lost a great deal of what I had, much like the schizophrenic man portrayed in the movie—until he got better and better over the years. I was able to relate in some ways, although I think that the change in me began years ago, as a boy, when I would often read about schizophrenia and related conditions, as well as self-help material. I have come to realize what I had, what I have, and what I want so far as this pertains to my health, as well as, perhaps, to my lifestyle and, yes, to my life. Independence. I have been and still am dependent on people, as well as tobacco and medication. I have lost a great deal of my cognitive abilities over the past few years—and a great deal more since earlier this year. I continue my journaling as usual, but I feel different, maybe better, maybe not. There is no cure for schizophrenia. I have read about living independently. However, I have overlooked the benefits of being able to take care of myself as far as possible—even this possibility never crossed my mind. Maybe I just had to see this, in the movie, and at this time. I am glad for once. I know what I want and perhaps what I might even need. Independence. I already have a job and a loving wife and people to help me. I began to think about how financially lucky I had once been and how, when losing that, I let my condition get the best of me. I think my illnesses and their unbelievably complex symptoms have caused me blame and denial. Rather than just shifting around my thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs, they have shifted in me, as I now see it. Yesterday I started to plan as efficiently and as realistically as possible, given my limitations, fears, and emotional dysregulation. All in all, I’ll see how it goes. Some bumps have come up already, which is natural, and I’m just giving this independence thing a shot. However, I do have hope. Nothing unrealistic. I have felt a delicate—and relative—equilibrium over the past 24 hours. That is rare. We’ll see how it goes. One day at a time and one step at a time. Easy does it. Once again, I try to make a good day out of what's been, but I end up hidden inside the fog of schizophrenia and asociality. Asociality refers to the lack of motivation to engage in social interaction, or a preference for solitary activities. Poor social and vocational outcomes have long been observed in schizophrenia.I do not like interpersonal relationships or schizophrenia. I prefer to be asocial. I know many people miss me. Everybody does. I often miss myself. I sit and I conclude this, right now, completely alone, alone in the dark.Please help me raise mental health awareness to put an end to the stigma and maltreatment that occur so often regarding those with mental illness and physical disabilities. I continue to keep hope and faith alive. I will move on. I will move on! Thank you for blessing me with your prayers and well-wishes. I sincerely appreciate you, God, and life in general. Keep fighting! Let us who suffer from or struggle with chronic mental health conditions remember that we might have schizophrenia or a mental illness, but it doesn’t have us. We cannot allow it to have us. 

People With Depression Cannot 'Snap Out Of It'

People with depression cannot “snap out of it.” My moods change frequently, and I am currently depressed. There is nothing more depressing than suffering from depression and still feeling sad. So, what's the point? Will it pass? No doubt. I forget what it's like to smile, and I mean for more than a couple hours now; I’m talking about now, not later. I forget what it's like to be a lovely or loving person, or if I ever was such a person at all – one of love, of goodness, of graciousness. I forget how it feels to truly live, much less how to live life to the fullest. I just exist. Right now, I simply exist, with my pulse and my breath and maybe some tears, if I am even able to let them roll a river down my face and flood the seas and the world with them, to get them out. I try to get myself out of this mood. This life. This episode of depression. Sure, I'll return to normal. Sure. Still, I have temporarily lost the point of living a life, pretending to smile or laugh, or getting a joke every darn hour when there are people around me who only want to see me happy. Well, I am not happy, and overall I have not been happy for most of my life. If anything, I glamorize the past, and even the present, sometimes. It'll pass, but that's not the point. The point is how I feel now. The point is right now. Yes, I know it will pass. I know people love me, but I do not currently know what that should feel like. I just can’t remember. I feel so lost. Gone. Yet I continue, and therefore I “inspire,” I’m often told, but I am still depressed. I am still in this chair, writing out this rubbish because it gets so overbearing I can't tell you. I'm not alone. I know that, too, but that feels and sounds so contrived and lackluster, uninspiring, to me right now. I pretend to be so damn nice and funny and charming for others, just for "them," so I don't lose a Facebook friend or whatnot. Nevertheless, I have zero real-life friends. I’m not sure if I ever have had any. Well, maybe, sort of, but they probably felt sorry for me. Who cares? I don't know. I am not even my own friend. This has been true for most of my life. I got into a good school, which I didn't even belong in. I lived my former Hollywood life, which never did anything for me worthwhile. I exaggerate about how cool that time in my life was, way back, back in the day. Now, I can barely move. I can barely see. I've been here many times, so don't worry about me. Just send a hug, as if I'd ever feel any real hug; virtual hugs are probably better because there is no effort involved. No feeling, and I can just barely feel. This is why I write this kind of stuff. “Just keep writing,” says that little voice in my head, “Get it all out, all that you can.” Do it now. Now. Now. Now. Get me out of right now. Remind me of some clever quote or cliché, reminding me how they are just reminders over and over again of how hard it actually is, in this case for anyone, to do, let go, move on, it'll pass, it'll pass, and so forth. I pretend to live, pretending to be myself, as if that would ring true. “Oh, that's just your mental illness speaking,” some say. Well, then I guess I am just one full bag of happiness, and I am over it. Did I snap out of it? Of course. And again, I will get out of this depressed state, just not now, and I will do it only to see it return. I am incapable of getting but one positive thought out, so I am sorry for not pretending right now, even for just a minute. Maybe I still am pretending. I am sick, twisted, and wrong. I don't belong. Other people have it worse. I suppose I don't deserve or have the right to be depressed. I need to think about them. Poor them. Hate me. Sometimes I pretend to love the life I live. What's the point? As Faulkner said, basically, the reason to live is to get ready to stay dead a long time. Okay, thanks, Mr. Faulkner. Seriously, what is the point? Tell me about it, about how we are all just here winging it, trying to get by. I am not “getting by.” I watch the clock and wait, and wait, and wait for tomorrow. Oh, how sad and pitiful. Get rid of this guy, this guy Jonathan. Hell, I can't even walk two feet without being right here with myself, as myself. There is no escape. I just know hope; it’s that same hope that gets me and brings me back here, for now. Tell me the point and I'll tell you why I am so damn me, but it doesn't mean I'm really proud of this. Make me understand you as I try to do the same. People with depression cannot “snap out of it.” Until my next episode, and otherwise until next time…