Henry - (after years of hospitalizations) – “There is a tree I sit under in the garden in Lewisham which speaks to me and gives me hope.”

Patrick – (Henry’s father and well known war journalist/correspondent) – “His voices and visions may still call to him, but they are no longer sure of an answer.”

The story of Henry’s life with a schizophrenia diagnosis and subsequent hospitalizations and family turmoil is told from the point of view of both the father, Patrick Cockburn, and the son, Henry Cockburn.

The bulk of the plot development is provided by the father (about 80-85%), which makes sense….he’s a writer after all, and having battled his own ignorance and assumptions as to what a schizophrenia diagnoses meant, was better equipped to provide context and explanations. I also suspect that Henry’s writing at the time would have still been too disorganized (mimicking his mind) and/or prone to denial of reality, as his inner world felt so “real.”

There were some diary entries from the mother as well, that were heartbreaking in the depiction of the fatigue that goes alone with caring for a child, who is struggling.

Musings:

Cost - Henry was lucky he had family support and the British National Health Service (NHS) – Helping Henry was incredibly difficult even with the benefit of a public health system, supportive family, and a family with means - stark contrast to those who struggle with schizophrenia here in the US. Parents, often desperate to get help their adult children, bankrupt themselves emotionally, physically, and financially in the process.

Stigma – Many react as if schizophrenia is a death sentence, or have misconceptions that get in the way of providing assistance to families. It “IS” incredibly difficult to treat (medication non-compliance being the main culprit, but then add lack of resources and support, environmental community support deficits, drug use, etc. and the complexity increases), but some can stabilize with the right support system or in their 30s (by then, usually and sadly, too much has been lost). We fear them, yet it’s more likely someone struggling with schizophrenia will kill him/herself than kill someone else.

Spiritual awakenings – makes me wonder how many “visions” are a result of the brain just “hearing” our internal voices.

Interesting: The link between psychoactive component of marijuana and onset of schizophrenia for some – not a big deal for many, but if combined with a genetic predisposition and environmental factors, it can be a trigger for some. 🤔 Need to read more on this, as the book was published in 2011.

Opinions:

I found Patrick Cockburn’s description of auditory hallucinations very clear and straightforward (as his writing in general!)
I liked the book. However, to me it felt somewhat expiatory and descriptive. Don’t get me wrong…don’t envy these parents’ journey, but I wish I had heard more from Henry and how he viewed his illness and the world. Henry was never (may not still be) convinced that he was mentally ill, despite clear evidence that swimming in freezing water, sleeping under branches and bushes and waking up with debris, twigs and insects crawling on his body was not “sane.” Yet, I was fascinated and enthralled by Henry’s inner world where trees spoke to him and one-way communication commanded him to do things that were against his best interest. How disconcerting it must be when they no longer do….why would he “want” to be medicated and have that magic stop? Or was it more “If I accept hearing these voices is wrong then I’m truly mad” and that may have been too much for him to take.

Also….this “Henry” was not much of a danger (no matter how erratic and scary his behaviors and the anxiety and sadness it caused his family) to anyone but himself, but that is not the reality for many other families. You don’t want them to harm themselves but there is “risk” in harming others, even if not intended, when command hallucinations are present. It is a delicate balance. Unlike the Cockburn’s, who were able to “visit” with Henry, while Henry was institutionalized, (and this was harrowing enough!) many families have to “deal” with the outbursts, the self-neglect, the embarrassment and anger, the constant anxiety for their wellbeing, the police knocks on the door, the irrational behaviors, the inherent fears and worries when psychosis is induced and what does it mean at the moment, the aftermath in terms of depression, anxiety, anger, etc. This devastates families! The utter lack of support often leads to the choice of having to kick their son or daughter out because they need to protect the grandchildren from the parent’s onslaught of erratic and disorganized behaviors (or from child welfare agencies that could remove them) or because being in the same home can be impossible to manage.

Sadly, not much has changed in terms of community support or adequate facilities ( )

This is the true story narrated by Patrick and Henry Cockburn, Father and son, Henry has a mental illness and once he is sectioned he keeps trying to escape from the mental hospitals.
Patrick is a War correspondent so isn't always home to look after him. This book tells the story from both Father and Sons point of view. OK book bit to much details in places for me though. ( )

Forgive me my reviews when they descend into stories. Sometimes a book brings back memories that illuminate one or other for me and since most of my reviews here and elsewhere are unread by anyone except me, I write them primarily for myself. I am wary of using real names as I have real-life friends and family in my list of friends, but sometimes it wouldn't make sense not to.

When I was a teenager, I lived in a shared house with a guy who was beautiful with blond shaggy hair, a lean body and was a virtuoso guitar player; everything that attracts young women. So when he suggested a walk one day on the disused Beeching railway track I was thrilled. It was so romantic walking in the sunshine, picking wild flowers, chatting and laughing and feeling free and he talked about such odd, different things I had never thought of. It was less of a thrilling free feeling when he wanted me to lie down on the railway track and bury me in stones and cover my head in flowers 'for beauty's sake'. He was a great big man, over 6' and I was very petite. He was very insistent so I laid down and he put some stones, small clinker from between the tracks on me and then went off to look for bigger ones. I ran!

Later that night, the house was full of red wine, weed and the boy playing his beautiful guitar. When people had left the room and we were alone for probably a moment he locked the door. It was ok, I left by the French windows and everyone went to bed except for the boy who stayed up playing guitar until dawn.

Next day we phoned his parents to tell them that they must come and get their son, that he needed help. A few days later we heard that his parents had gone out and he had made a big pile of their furniture in the garden, apparently intending to burn it, but when they came back he was in the shower screaming about the needles coming down and penetrating his skin. He said he was the new Christ of her Pain. My pain. His name was Christopher Paine.

Months went by, we had occasional reports, he was in and out of mental homes, doing well or not so well. Years went by, same thing. Eventually he settled down and became an opthalmologist we heard.

That was one of the true encounters I have had with schizophrenics of whom I have known three very well. Another drooled and wrote long poems of what he'd like to do to me which wasn't overtly sexual but very weird. A third refused to speak on Sundays because Ayn Rand didn't (she did, actually).

That's what it was really like being with someone who had a totally other frame of reference. In the book the father relates his son's differences but it didn't have the colour and the feeling of any experiences I had. Its not an illness where they are 'out of it' for years at a time and occasionally surfacing into this world, but more where someone has a frame of reference of their own invention for interpreting sights and sounds and therefore their responses are out of synch with the rest of the world. They cannot live with us and its terrible to have to live with them, you neither want to be harmed not let them cause themselves harm.
( )

A reasonable example of its genre, and with the added interest of Henry's and (uncredited in the authorship) his mother's writing in addition to father Patrick's. A useful addition to family memoirs about schizophrenia because of the minor but repeated emphasis on the deleterious effects of marijuana on people vulnerable to psychosis.

In its best moments, it's absorbing and sad; at worst it's sometimes confused about where to direct its anger. I certainly empathize with the author's frustration about the insecurity of secure facilities, though for one I think his vision of the security of pre-community mental health facilities is a romantic one (his son might well have spent his days tied to a bed prior to the advent of medication). Having worked on a unit where a patient kicked his way out through a barred metal door and absconded over a tall fence, I also know that someone bent on escaping will manage to do so unless their right to any freedom is abrogated. In terms of rights, it interests me that Henry seems not to have been tried on older medications (they have higher side effect profiles, but work well for some people), nor, until they began powdering his clozapine, did he appear to really have a successful trial (and given the frequency with which he smokes marijuana, I'm not convinced he's had a totally clean trial yet). I also wonder, given the sometimes manic flavor of his episodes, if he was ever tried on lithium or Depakote, but hey, I'm not a medical doctor and this is idle speculation on my part.

Read with [b:The Center Cannot Hold: My Journey through Madness|1098486|The Center Cannot Hold My Journey Through Madness|Elyn R. Saks|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1180965774s/1098486.jpg|1085345] for another perspective on British mental health care, and with Hunt's [b:Mental Hospital|1889579|Mental Hospital|Morton Hunt|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1189830088s/1889579.jpg|1890883] and Rosalynn Carter's [b:Within Our Reach: Ending the Mental Health Crisis|7881535|Within Our Reach Ending the Mental Health Crisis|Rosalynn Carter|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1312045454s/7881535.jpg|11082879] for an early perspective on the miracle of antipsychotic medication, and a contemporary perspective on the failure of adequate community-based mental health care. ( )

An interesting read this one, if not wholly satisfying. I found it hard to like Henry Cockburn contrary to all those that seem to meet him in the book. His hallucinations combined a lot with popular culture which to me makes him come across as a bit of an annoying attention seeker. Yes I know that he is suffering from a mental disorder but then again so am I and so are thousands of people so I have a right to criticise. On the other hand I did find his story compelling and it was well worth a read. It just didn't give me the answers I wanted. ( )