Recently, I came down with a really bad cold, and my schizoaffective disorder and accompanying anxiety made it worse. I honestly thought I would never get well again. Here’s what it was like.

Before the Tori Amos concert I went to with my husband, Tom, in late May, I hadn’t been to a live concert since 2007. The reason for that centered around my schizoaffective anxiety and my response to crowds and noise. But, soon after the pandemic started and even before vaccines were available, I promised myself that I would go to her concert if Tori toured again. So, even though the pandemic is still here, I bought tickets for myself, and Tom as soon as Tori announced North American tour dates. Here’s how it went.

I’ve been feeling hopeless a lot lately. I have arthritis in my knees, and my schizoaffective disorder is making me feel hopeless about it.

Having schizophrenia can be very difficult when it comes to dealing with grief. We'll reexamine the stages of grief here, continuing from the last post with stage two.

I know I’ve been writing a lot about my knee troubles, and I’ve even shared that I have early signs of arthritis in my knees. But it didn’t hit me until I saw my orthopedic doctor again, and he confirmed I have osteoarthritis of the knee. “Osteoarthritis” is one of those words I’m going to have to get used to, just like “schizoaffective” was so many years ago. But looking back on how I handled my transition to a new schizoaffective disorder is helping me grapple with this new diagnosis, which arrived just in time for my 43rd birthday.

When people ask me how my knee surgery for a torn meniscus went, the first thing I blurt out is that I had a nightmare while under anesthesia. Talk about being socially awkward. I definitely wasn’t expecting that to happen, but when you live with schizoaffective disorder, I guess all terrors of the mind are possible.

By the time you read this, all the events described here will have been resolved. I am writing on March 5. In less than a week, I will have surgery for a torn meniscus in my knee. Part of me is glad I’m having the surgery, but the schizoaffective in me is freaking out.

A New Year’s resolution this year turned into an exciting photo project, and it’s doing wonders for my schizoaffective disorder. Here’s how photography is helping my schizoaffective disorder.

Grief is not a one-size-fits-all thing. Going through the stages of grief with schizophrenia can be emotionally taxing. When going through the stages of grief, it is important to remember that everyone takes their own amount of time.

A week ago today, I had a beer. It was the first time I’d had an alcoholic beverage in years. It made me feel good, and I toyed with the idea of occasionally imbibing, but I decided not to. Here’s why this schizoaffective won't be drinking.