My name is Dan Hoeweler, and if you were to meet me in person, I would seem like your average eccentric artist. I am in many ways undeniably ordinary. I live in a house with my cat Mr Giggles, who I deeply love. I have many friends and work as a janitor at an amusement park, and have been there for three years now without incident. I, with the help of my family, have been purchasing and renovating houses together during the winter time. I blend in fairly well in most situations, and if you were to talk to me you might find me somewhat intelligent and charming.
When people ask me what I do for a living, I tell them that I work part time in real estate, part time at an amusement park and also write for magazines in my spare time. Often they become very interested about my writing, and when they ask what I write about I nudge them off.
The things that I write about in my blog “Creative Schizophrenia” are a far cry from who I really am these days, so much so that many people, particularly those not close to me, have wandered if I am simply trying to get attention or launch a career in a surreptitious manner.
The truth is behind that charming smile, creative abilities and eloquent conversations, is the dark secret that I have unquestionably had great difficulties interpreting reality in the past. I was told by a psychiatrist that I had schizoaffective disorder in 2007, but before that I had been told a dozen different things.
There is only one thing, according to my doctor, that separates me from your average case of Schizoaffective disorder.
“What makes you soooo interesting, my friend, is that you are 100 times better on this particular anti-psychotic.”
I am not a physician or expert on Schizophrenia; I am simply a writer who wants to describe his own issues with reality. To be honest, I don’t know anyone well who has schizophrenia or have even taken a course in abstract psychology before, so if you are reading this, thinking that I have all the answers from a medical perspective, I can tell you that I don’t.
This illness has caused me a lot of pain in the past, and just because I live a normal life now doesn’t mean that it doesn’t effect me. I hold onto a lifeline each and every day, and am forever thankful to the doctor who saved my life. I also fully appreciate the research and development that has gone on to develop these drugs and have given me the life I thought I would never live. I am writing this now, as a way to return my thanks.