Remarkable
Normally I only watch movies in the company of others, but recently began renting occasional stuff to watch alone. Last night I finally saw A Beautiful Mind. In case you missed or forgot, it's a fictionalized biography of mathematician John Nash, who lives with schizophrenia and won the 1994 Nobel Prize in Economics.
In true life and in the movie, Nash refused conventional treatment (with medication and shock treatment, for example), and overcame his illness by learning to recognize delusions, differentiate them from reality, and ignore them. The movie has been criticized, among other reasons, because the protagonist admits to using newer medication (he does not). Apparently this was done out of fear the movie would encourage schizophrenics to stop taking their drugs.
Medication interfered with Nash's creative insights. Many artistic people complain about this side-effect from drugs used to treat bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and depression.
I believe mirtazapine, which I take for dysthymia and social anxiety, has negatively impacted my ability to write for the past two or three years. That is one of the reasons I tried lowering the dose in May (with doctor's advice). Go off it entirely? I would lose the ability to sleep soundly, which I've only had for the past six years of my life, with the drug. I don't have the courage to give it up.
My moods, ranging to panic or despair, arise from distortion of reality. I exaggerate threats and underestimate my own capacities.
I can't relate directly to paranoid schizophrenia, however I can extrapolate. At least two people close to me experience visual and auditory delusions. So did my mother during the final weeks of her battle with cancer. I grasp the reason why stress, which triggers my issues, could carry these people I love into the realm of imaginary characters, sounds and events.
The movie made me uncomfortable because it portrayed someone with raw determination overcoming his limitations, someone not afraid to be different. Evidently people's dislike for him-and occasional derision-sank in and hurt, but the pain did not deter him. He fought the isolation caused by mental illness. He accepted circumstances that felt unpleasant or unsafe in order to do what he needed to do. Clearly, without schizophrenia, John Nash would have led a dry, unremarkable life.
I noticed a copy of this movie in the been-used sale bin at the video store. It needs to join my collection, for reminder and inspiration.