THE BATTLE IS WON

By Jason Kirk Bartley

The officer commanded me in a distraught yet calm voice to slowly exit the car. He was being nice, considering that his car had just went skidding by my car in a near-miss head on collision. I was the culprit: I’d been caught red-handed. The red and blue lights reflected off near buildings and were a reminder to me of what can happen in an instant. I could’ve been gone. But God had other plans.

The voices seemed to slip out of other’s minds. They obviously must be able to read mine. What if I thought something derogatory about someone? I could be hurt. Also, feelings of grandeur plagued me. Surely, I was a top executive, or top official or something. I was in danger. I was scared, and I was disoriented. The officer seemed to sense all of this. Amid the confusion came some more confusion. They had me hopping on one foot and touching my nose. The most embarrassing part was they made me walk the yellow lines. They thought I was intoxicated because of slurred words and delayed reflexes.

My younger brother shows up on the scene. I had been an hour late getting to his house to spend the night. I had completely forgotten about my guard drills the next day - it was my two-week guard drills during the summer; I was in the Ohio Air National Guard in the United States military. I was also on my break away from the University of Cincinnati. I had come back home to stay with my mother.

The officer asks me if I had anything to drink or any illegal substances? I replied with a big fat "no". The officer asked my brother if I was mentally challenged in any way? My brother answers: “No he’s in the military and gets honors in his classes at college.” I had said some off-the-wall comments to the police. “I am just maturing,” I had told them. The officers responded to this craziness with: “Yeah, we all have to grow up!” Really, they didn’t even know what I had meant ... I told them I could read others minds, and they could read mine.

They suggested that I admit myself into 1A at Adena hospital. 1A was the Psychiatric ward at Adena in Ohio. I started to refuse to go. Then the officer reiterated that if I continue driving and would happen to kill someone as the result of negligence, I’d go to prison. So, I agreed to go to the hospital against my wishes. I argued, but I went anyway. My license had been suspended - I only had two more points left on it before the incident.

A at Adena was a change of pace. Usually - especially in the military - we came and went as we pleased. Not here. I could smoke Joe Camel under the table. I could easily smoke two packs of cigarettes a day. Not here. I spent most of the time at either pool tables or at a group discussing my cares with others who’d understand. My mother and uncle visited me frequently.

It was a tough reality to find out I was paranoid schizophrenic. This was my diagnosis. This explained a lot; the voices, the disorientation, the paranoid thoughts and delusions. Now everything made sense.

What didn’t make sense? The fact that I kept honors grades during this, and the fact that God had spared my life. Surely He had something for me? The police officers were just doing their job. They had gotten me to get evaluated. They were heroes in my book - not all heroes wear capes; some wear a badge. I was medically discharged from the Ohio National Guard. I was put on medication to become stable. But I was anything but stable. The first medicine didn’t work. It was Risperdal. They adjusted it to Abillify. They adjusted them through the years to keep me stable. Stability looked good on me. I was on the right medicine and the right dosage. Now I can function. I could lead a normal life.

I believe my mother and God played a big part in my recovery. My mother never gave up on me. And God still had a plan for my life. God was the biggest part of my recovery. I went to a play called “Heaven’s Gates and Hell’s Flames,” at my mother’s church. I was gloriously saved by Jesus. Change began for the better.

I couldn’t believe I was a Christian. I kept pinching myself. And, yes, at first, I struggled. I had never even opened the Bible. We’re supposed to put off the “old man” and put on the new. I walked in Christianity, but it was my own version, as I walked with one foot in sin and still tried to commit myself to be a good Christian. At first, I ended up going to a cult church and their legalistic doctrine. They preached against all the other churches, and how only they had the manifold wisdom of God. They were the church of the Bible. Everyone else - if not in this church under this doctrine - would be on their way to hell. My brother and I were brainwashed and controlled by this church. They used scare tactics, and if they thought we were leaving the church, they’d follow us around. I prayed earnestly to the Lord to show us the true Church of God. And He did. 

We left the church as it split. Now we would have to find a new one that preaches from the Bible, and doesn’t twist the word of God. As Christians, we grow stronger as we fast, pray, and read God’s Word. This “Christian stuff” was all new to me. I prayed for the right church, and after visiting half of the churches in Chillicothe, Ohio, I had found some good ones - but not my home church.

I still would get sick occasionally. I got so sick one time; I believed an archangel of God had taken over my body. I would go around delivering people from their demons. During this time, I had a visual hallucination of the devil entering my room at the respite mental health facility. The door opened and a strange looking creature came in and scared me with its squalling cries. I began screaming: “In the name of Jesus be gone.” It couldn’t come any closer. As my medicine was adjusted, I got better. I was ready to go back into society.

Eventually, I figured out I was eligible for Veterans' benefits. I had been taking classes toward a bachelors in writing at Ohio University-Chillicothe. Due to my illness, I would not finish my writing degree, but I found out that with all the classes I had been taking, I was one class away from an associate degree in social science. I received it with honors and a 3.6 GPA in 1998.

Paranoid schizophrenics weren’t supposed to be able to clean themselves, their rooms ... let alone receive a college degree. I did. I was the first Bartley before my cousin Kim to ever receive anything in college. I’d been through classes. but had never finished - I’d received impressive honors but never a college degree to call my own, so this was quite a feat for me.

My brother and close uncle Jim got me into writing poetry and short stories. My uncle is a pastor and frequently published my poetry in a “Victory in Jesus” pamphlet. My first poem published in a magazine was: “God Grant me direction” in Solomon’s Café section of WOW magazine (Women of Worth). I was published for my first time online with, “God My Light.” I would start writing for Worthfinding.com for several years. They are no longer active, but I would continue my craft.

I kept plowing away. I was received into the Veterans' Medical center and started receiving a check for my disability in 2005. I bought my first house. This just happened to be across from the church I would start attending as my home church. I became a very active member there. I continued to work as a part-time janitor and continued my studies online. I volunteered with my new church early and often. I would start attending Ohio Christian University and learn more about the Bible. I received my bachelor’s in leadership and Ministry in 2014 with honors. I continued going. I received my master’s degree in Ministry, with a minor in practical theology with honors.

I would read poems in front of my church. I also continued writing my poetry, and in 2020 during Covid 19, I won national accolades for the first time. I entered the NVCAF (National Veterans Creative arts competition). My poem, “The Woodcarver,” won a gold medal out of all the Veterans medical centers in the nation. I was supposed to go to Florida and read my poem at the festival in Florida, but it was canceled due to Covid 19. I stayed in Ohio and attended workshops for writing at my local VAMC.

In 2019, a nice, beautiful lady named Nila came back into my life. She had attended rehabilitation classes with me at the VAMC. We really did not talk at all - besides passing each other in the classes. When she came to my church and began volunteering for the janitorial team that I oversaw, we became friends, then better friends, then best of friends. We were married on November 7th of 2020 after we dated for about a year. We just knew we were the others soul-mate and forever love. Of course, we seriously prayed about it. We wanted to be with each other forever ... and then some.

We had made a prayer list for our wedding, and each prayer was answered. We had a beautiful wedding on little money in which we had enough to buy our rings and give the pastor his money. Everyone else volunteered - from the decorations to the food and ceremony. We could feel the love from our congregation as we watched God’s hand in all of this unfold.

Paranoid schizophrenics aren’t supposed to be able to do all these things. We were, and are, the exception to this rule. We are stable, content, and happy. She’s been stable for about 20 years, and I’ve been stable for 17 years. With God, all things are possible. God works through doctors and medicine.

We now write poetry together. We critique each other’s work. This is honest and true criticism before we submit it to be published. We are very active in our church. We attend the same church we fell in love in. We love each other more and more with each passing day. God bless everyone.