Some call it schizophrenia, I call it a career
It's getting harder and harder to differentiate between schizophrenics and people talking on a cell phone. It still brings me up short to walk by somebody who appears to be talking to themselves.
The schizophrenic may indeed be mad. He is mad. He is not ill. I have been told by people who have been through the mad experience how what was then revealed to them was veritable manna from Heaven. The person's whole life may be changed, but it is difficult not to doubt the validity of such vision. Also, not everyone comes back to us again.
A schizophrenic war is not an easy thing to deal with.
Oh, and I certainly don't suffer from schizophrenia. I quite enjoy it. And so do I.
Our family suffers from a hereditary condition called, generally, mental illness. Specifically, multiple family members in successive generations have suffered from either bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.
My mother is schizophrenic. I would love to be brave enough to learn more about it. I try to understand her, I try to be positive about it. She can be so absent and tired by her medication; sometimes she's so lucid, funny, and smart.
Schizophrenic language has in this sense an interesting resemblance to poetry.
I'm a schizophrenic writer.
