Why we are terrified of psychosis, my story and the incoming tidal wave

Abstract drawing of lighthouse with a red heart on it shining light in the dark

When the world shut down, I was hit with a perfect storm and lost my mind.

I lost myself, who I am.

Another perspective presented to me was psychosis.

I see this term more than ever now.

Headlines like: “Man chatting with AI endlessly losing touch with reality”

I’ll spare you the details of my experience, which are embedded in my artistic journey. The only thing that got me through it was a small seed of faith that it would allow me to help others later on.

We are here now.

Psychosis is one of the most stigmatized labels we place on people.

There’s a lot of fear around it because of its connections to the unknown.

We see someone who we assume is talking to themselves and call them crazy.

We hear a loved one terrified of being stalked without compassion for the incredibly real emotions they are frozen in or hidden truths fueling this experience—without truly listening.

“Psychotic” individuals are often seen and heard dealing with things we don’t see or hear. So, we tell ourselves it must be a fantasy and something must be wrong with them — we avoid and quickly disregard because of our own fears.

They represent our fears of the unknown.

Losing the control we all work hard to maintain.

The “psychotic” person becomes the symbol for our fears of what may happen if we let go… giving up our tireless work, power, addictions, or other ways we grip so tightly to control or avoid what’s on the other side.

Sometimes that unknown is the baggage of past traumas we tirelessly and oftentimes unconsciously carry behind us as we strive to simply get through each day. The links between psychosis and trauma have been shown to be strong and while only part of a complex web in my experience—was undeniable for me.

I had to navigate hearing voices that were incessant, traumatic memories that felt ever present, and the sense that I was eerily floating with no sure reality to plant my feet on. My energy felt out of control and I wasn’t able to sleep without a pill.

It was terrifying and isolating, which only worsened the symptoms and traumatized me further. I felt like I was stuck in an endless loop. Now another diagnosis to treat, welcome PTSD!

Ironically, my tight grip was the very thing that caused me to continue to hear voices, fight delusions, and be unable to feel any sense of comfort outside my home for far too long through my experience of “psychosis”.

I was holding tight for so long (my whole life), that I didn’t know how to let go.

Or at least that is what I told myself.

Why does this matter to you?

Perhaps someone you love has struggled this way or will soon.

I pray that’s not the case, but I’ve had a looming sense it is on the way.

I felt compelled to share my experience, remove the shame, and express how I got back through my art. It is the whole reason why I made it through.

So here I am.

Unless you’re gripping tight and not looking up from your screens of Marvel movies, you may have noticed a tidal wave is coming that will force many others to face these challenges.

A massive loss of control.

Significant and rapid change.

Major tests of faith.

For many it may feel like you’ve been sleepwalking and are now awake. But it wasn’t a gentle sunrise that woke you up, rather a violent shake.

When you find stability and identity in your job and it vanishes almost instantly…

Who are you?

Where do you find your sense of purpose? How do you fill this new void?

Do you have faith?

What happens to your sense of control when a tidal wave wipes it all away?

I want to be clear that I do not have “the path” or answers to these questions for you, only my own.

I hope they can guide you or your loved ones through the dark, stormy waters to find yours so you don’t have to go as deep or tread water for as long as I did.

I lost my mind.

I made it back again through the grace of God.

…

It’s time to try compassion over imprisonment.

Because within these puzzling experiences, there is gold that we need.

All you need is a tiny seed.

We can heal.

We can be free.

Love,

Notes from the Artist

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