I can’t tell you how scary psychotic disorders can be

By Jasmit Khurana

I had heard of psychotic disorders from my friends but I did not know how scary it is to experience one. Last night, I experienced one and it has left me shaken and scarred.

I had come to India after eight years, and I was very excited to visit my childhood friend who lived in Jaipur. We had grown up together, studied in the same school and got married almost at the same time.

She had continued to live in Jaipur, where her husband taught at a private university, while I had moved to the US with my husband, who was a techie. We were constantly in touch and both of us were familiar with everything that was happening in our lives.

It was therefore with great sorrow that I had learnt that my friend’s father, who was a retired army officer, had passed away, and her mother, who was alone had moved with her. I was deeply attached to both, having grown up in the same neighbourhood.

I was very excited and looking forward to meet Meenal Aunty, and, of course, my friend, Trisha. The day passed off in a bundle of hugs, smiles and excited chatter. There was so much to share and discuss.

Meenal Aunty showed flashes of her old self as she smiled and joined us in the living room. But I could notice a distinct strain. She did not seem to be the same person. There was something that was missing in her attitude and behaviour. She was not as spontaneous and cheerful as she used to be but seemed lost and withdrawn most of the time.

She decided to have her dinner early, saying she was feeling tired.  Trisha gave her a capsule, which she said was for psychotic disorders. Evidently, this was a new drug and the neurologist had started it only a day back.

Minutes after taking the drug, Meenal auntie’s behaviour changed. Trisha had told me that almost every night for the past few months Aunty had been struggling.

But I was not prepared for what happened next. First, auntie did not seem to recognise me though I had been with her almost the entire day. “Who is this,” she wanted to know.

Then, she slipped into the past, and started talking to herself. “I don’t know what happened at school today. I can’t remember my lessons. I am sure the teacher will not be happy.” And she kept repeating herself despite Trisha telling her that everything will be fine, and there was nothing to worry.

Even as I was trying to grapple with this, auntie went hysterical. “There are people in this room. I can hear their voices. They want to take me away,” and she grabbed Trisha’s hands, her eyes pleading to help her. There was a sharp edge in her voice that was frightening.

Then, she wanted to know why are there so many bodies in the room. “They are all covered in white. Has everyone died,” she shrieked.

I had goosebumps by now. I did not know what was happening or how to respond. Auntie’s face had gone pale and her eyes looked crazed. Trisha, in comparison, seemed more in control. She was constantly trying to calm her.

Gradually, the medicine started taking effect, and auntie slipped into a hazy sleep. Her eyes were closed but she was constantly talking, though incoherently. Her mind seemed restless and wandering. Again and again, she would plead, “Trisha, don’t leave me.”

I sat with Trisha for almost an hour till auntie’s mumblings died down.

Trisha told me that this happens every night. Even during daytime, it is not easy to manage her.  She is extremely demanding and restless. The neurologist suspects that dementia is setting in.

According to the neurologist, this happens in old age especially after the death of the spouse. Loneliness sets in, and the elders start suffering from memory losses, spells of forgetfulness, and sometimes hallucinations.

I can never forget Aunty Meenal’s crazed face.

To know more about psychotic orders visit Cleveland Clinic’s article on Psychosis.

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