Normal Schizophrenic

 Yesterday I called my son John while I was on my way home from work.  He's in his senior year of nursing school, and he'd recently started his new round of clinical work at a group home for psychiatric patients.

"How was your first day?" I asked. 

"Actually," he started. I could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. "It was very cool." 

He explained that as a student nurse, he and his classmates weren't really allowed to do all that much with the patients.  They couldn't touch them or give them medication, so they spent most of their clinical hours hanging out and talking with them.  

"Today Bree and I watched Maury Povich with a schizophrenic woman, and then we played Scrabble with another guy who just got up in the middle and said 'I'm done!'" John shared that he was fascinated by the control the human mind had over these people.  It overpowered them to the point of debilitation, and since he was freed up from the duties of nursing, he was able to try and connect with them. 

"Mom," he continued, "there are a couple of people there who have such strong voices in their heads that they can't even hear you when you talk to them.  Could you imagine?"

I chuckled inwardly.  I could imagine.  

I'm not schizophrenic, and I haven't been diagnosed with any sort of mental illnesses, but sometimes  voices in my own mind do prevent me from truly hearing.  Those inner voices that judge and criticize and critique -- how often have I missed out on beautiful or powerful experiences because those voices were so distracting? I guess I'm sort of a "normal" schizophrenic. Aren't we all?