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I feel that I owe my life to Clozaril. Approx. 2 yrs ago my life consisted of moving from one bout of dyskensia to the next. Usually I'd have a family member sitting on my chest so that I wouldn't hurt myself thrashing -- one night while we were driving home I kicked the windshield out. My only respot was sleeping. But, even with enough sleeping pills to stop a mule. I only slept about an hour every night. So, in December of '94 they put me on Clozaril. The weekly blood tests were a hassle but the results were great. One warning though, for the first and only time in my life, my dreams became a major force in my life. Every morning my kids would gather around my bed and wake me up to hear the latest dream. My wife had a helluva time getting the kids to bed because I would begin talking in my sleep at 1 a.m. They'd all stand out in the hallway to listen to me yelling. They weren't bad dreams, some of them were quite entertaining. One night I wrote a song in a dream, and I woke up the next morning singing it (upon fully waking up, I discovered my wife in bed next to me laughing her head off.