The main thing I can into my experience of schizophrenia and the psychoses that result is how I wanted to express how I feel during a moment of psychosis that explains my momentary disassociation to someone who is confused or switches away from that embarrassing experience on my end. It is a combination of shame and anxiety, but first, it is anxiety from going through it publicly. I walk and talk as if it’s just part of my disability, and it is hyperfocused whenever I experience it. I honestly think no one cares, but I do tremendously because of how controlling the psychosis is in dictating how I must feel and behave in public to avoid further scrutiny and therefore further heat from the conversation. This heat is what builds my strength that I am doing what is right in expressing my disability publicly. I even have a pin I sometimes wear whenever I feel that today is going to be a difficult day with it. It says “I have an invisible disability,” and I wear it so the respondent can view it first. I can’t read minds, but I feel it helps tremendously. The shame has reached but a flash of heat during moments when my brain is overloaded and I can find refuge in concealing it at a movie theatre concession stand, at a bank branch, or at the doctor’s office. But I do realize that there are most people with a “no big deal” than I anticipated. My moments are like seizures with auditory command hallucinations coincide with my eyes focused on a particular person. It is now understandable I represent a myriad of disorders and physical ailments that manifest as a brain overload or brief psychotic break. I am glad these moments are few and far between, and I thank my doctors and therapy for such progress. But that heat of shame is always there for a moment reminding me that I must continue making progress with it.