About Me

I'm just a guy, from a small town in the middle of nowhere that you've probably never heard of. My name is Connor James Issa, and I was born and raised in the Durham, NH area. If you know where that is, you clearly went to UNH like me. I've been suicidally depressed since the age of five years old, and in fact, my earliest memories are of suicidal ideation. I kept imagining stabbing myself in the chest with the large steak knives in the kitchen, when I was trying to fall asleep.

Why? No, I'm not a violent person, and no, I don't have a knife fetish. I was in pain, and I needed it to stop: at any cost. The knives in the kitchen just so happened to be nearby, and the only solution my little five year old brain could concoct. It took me until the age of nine to actually, you know... talk to someone about these feelings I couldn't help but have. That conversation did not go well. I have been suffering in silence for my entire life. I learned pretty quickly precisely how useless, and actually completely counter-productive it is to mention these feelings to anyone.

First of all, no one knows how to handle that information, and things get awkward - fast. Most people think there's something wrong with you, and that they are just the person to fix you. They get this warped idea that, because they know about my feelings, they are obliged in some odd way to intervene, and "help". I pity these kind of people. How nice it must be, such blissful ignorance to the truth. It's what I've always wanted, but every year Santa seems to forget, and I never find it in my birthday cards. Forgive me for sounding slightly jealous; because I am. Very much so, indeed.

For me, Adderall has been a life-saver, literally, and has extended my life by roughly a decade. This is not a sentiment that is appreciated by my family, or any of my doctors, however. You see, I have also been diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder (NOT schizophrenia, which is a degenerative brain disease) whose name means: "Split Affect". It consists almost entirely of what is called negative symptoms, such as severe depression, ADD, and anxiety among a whole host of pleasant little, "other things" that not-so conveniently come included free of charge in that tiny little bundle of hell. Definitely less than 10%, and honestly more like less than 5% of my life is spent in what society deems as "psychosis". 

No, I am not dangerous, and no, I am in no way, shape, or form like the Las Vegas Movie Theater Shooter, or any school shooter, or other mass murderer. Shizophrenia and Schizoaffective Disorder are not only in different books, they are so far apart from each other, they are on different planets. People just freak out at the root word "schizo", which simply means "split". Schizophrenia translates to "Split-Mind". Now, 99% of doctors will tell you that the information I am choosing to not only divulge, but to archive in digestible lesson format for you here are what's called positive symptoms of my disorder (notice how I did not use the word disease) and that I am in a psychotic state. I am going to leave the cat out of the bag, on that one and allow any and all of my readers to decide for themselves.

Pssssst. Just a quick pro tip: if anyone wants to, start a betting pool, or something of the like, bet on me. I already know the answer. Unfortunately, that's not enough to earn me back my freedom, even in the United States of America. In the Live Free or Die state, no less. It's funny, because I'm actually on a two-year probationary period that the state likes to call a "Conditional Discharge" from their mandated psychiatric hospital, and if I don't comply with my medication, or if I get caught using adderall at any of my regular urine tests, I will get sent directly back to hell, against my will. I will be arrested, and pulled from my bed in my own house, for not allowing bad, and flat-out incompetent doctors to shove pills down my throat that not only do not work, but actively harm far more than they help.

Now, don't get me wrong, here. I have absolutely nothing against taking medication. We just don't have anything better, yet. It hasn't been discovered, invented and tried out yet. CBD is the only naturally occurring antipsychotic on the planet, and the medical world has been praying for it to be this massive savior whose shoes it just doesn't fill. Both doctors, and big pharma are really at a loss, here of the best way to treat these illnesses, and everyone knows it. But the legal system does not care. The word "schizo" is too scary, for my life to continue to matter.

Now, if anyone is going through something similar, or simply would like to reach out for any reason, please feel free to call or text me anytime. I would be happy to talk about my experiences with the police, with psychiatric admissions, psychotic symptoms, depression, suicide or anything else your little heart may desire. That is, after all, the purpose of this blog. To be honest, I would absolutely love to hear from some musicians, or anyone who is so inclined with the methods of... communication that I teach here. I have not met even one person willing to admit, point-blank that they are aware of this system of language, and the first person to do so would have so much of my gratitude, that I would personally bake them a cookie, bigger than the world record breaker from the movie Bruce Almighty.

Connor James Issa

(603)-285-3205

ConnorJamesIssaKeator@gmail.com

24 Church Hill Rd

Durham, NH 03824