Marie Balter, a woman who was misdiagnosed and kept in a state mental hospital near Boston for 17 years, returned in triumph to the institution as a fulltime administrator after earning a master's degree from Harvard. Her problem may put readers in mind of my ordeal from early 1961 to early 1976, which is described below. I am not bitter and I have no regrets. God was testing me in preparation for my public mission as Jesus the Christ, which started on February 6, 1986. 

I have been treated for a chemical imbalance in my body and I took lithium carbonate tablets daily for 30 years to maintain the balance. A side effect of my medicine was a hand tremor, which is also a symptom of Parkinson's Disease. 

When the chemicals in my body became imbalanced (at age 20 in 1961), the remedy was not available. Lithium was used in Europe before I960, but was not approved in the U.S. until 1974. Medical scientists in America were tardy in finding lithium effective in treating the ailment. If lithium's healing properties had been widely accepted before 1961, my long travail would not have happened. 

Medical science is still in its adolescence. For 15 years, I was treated with tranquilizers for a condition that the doctors called paranoia-schizophrenia. It was a big mistake, but I don't blame the physicians because they didn't have sufficient knowledge. I actually suggested lithium to my doctor and he said, "Well, we can try it, but there are no guarantees." In a sense, I cured myself. 

Up to that point, I had had 5 attacks (in 1961, 1964, 1968, 1972, and 1976), which required me to be hospitalized for about 30 days each. The 1972 attack entailed a second 30-day hospital stay. During the 15 years, I experienced a sensation of dying approximately 100 times in the process of having electro-shock therapy. Whereas psychiatric patients have chronic illnesses, my health was excellent for 30 years, starting on February 10, 1976. I have never been mentally ill. My illness was physical, not mental. One of my physicians was a general practitioner. My doctor before him was a surgeon. Now my doctors are called nurse practitioners. 

After 30 years, the lithium wore out and I was switched to Risperdal. In 2006, I entered a local hospital and stayed for 3 months, as in a rest home for very tired people. Now my ailment is called a bipolar disorder. This is the full disclosure of my medical history, as of April 12, 2007. 

I now realize that my disability is a chemical problem, nothing to be ahamed of, nothing to feel guilty about.