Mental Illness Has Taught Me Some Valuable Lessons

Ed Allard, FHR Communications Representative

 When I was a younger person, I thought that life was a continuum. Things were good for me in high school. I went to a fancy preparatory school. I had nice clothing and meaningful work. I thought then that things would always be good and that my life would traverse through an Ivy League College (I did start at one such school), graduate school, and a successful career. Mental illness interfered with that scenario. My hopes were suddenly disturbed when, because of schizophrenia, I was unable to finish school. I thought life had lost its meaning.

Although it took many years, I gained back a good deal of what I had lost. I ultimately got my college degree and I have achieved a career that I consider successful. These accomplishments differ from what I had imagined in both subtle and prominent ways. Sometimes it is a small thing, a gift from a friend, an essay that goes well, a resolve to quit smoking that can spell the difference between my feeling poorly and feeling well. I suppose I am not unique in this respect, it just seems more important for me to track than most. As my mental health has been in question many times, I am compelled to monitor every happening that has an effect, for or against, its maintenance. Recently, I realized I could make a positive impact on my financial situation if I cut back on the number of cigarettes I smoked. I actually should call them cigars. They come twenty to a pack, and are the size of cigarettes, but much cheaper. Much to my surprise, I was able to cut back, at least for a couple of days, and that made all the difference.

For me, recovery is like a roller coaster, gradually moving uphill. I find I navigate the shoals and eddies of my recovery with new ideas each day, and yet, I struggle. There are times I just wish it would all stop. I no longer hallucinate, and I am no longer deluded, but I suffer. My suffering is not without merit. I have to remember that suffering is part of life, and I appreciate how my own suffering tends to refine my skills and motivate me always to do a little better. Today I happen to have an extra three dollars for that special trip to McDonalds. Maybe things are not so bad after all.

Mental illness has taught me some valuable lessons. One of them is that it is not always a question of mental illness, or mental health. Any number of things could have interrupted the path I started down years ago. My parents might have lost the ability to pay the school’s tuition. I might have developed some other condition, perhaps a physical one, which interfered with my trajectory. There is no end to the list of circumstances that could have altered my course in life. It is presumptuous to believe that, because things were good once, they will always be that way without a challenge.

I have come through a great journey, and learned most of all, that we people are not so very different. My mental illness interfered with my hopes and dreams, but perhaps it was your broken heart that hindered yours. I find most days are a struggle with negative emotions that come over me periodically throughout the day. Frankly, I do not feel as happy as I would like to, but I have learned to accept that as par for the course. I am aware of every event that brings about an improvement in mood. Today, it was a successfully accomplished resolve to cut back on cigarettes. Then the moment passes and I am back to the struggle. I wonder sometimes if it will ever really get resolved. Then I remind myself that it is better. It is so much better, and it is the little things, added up altogether, that make the difference. There is the view of a beautiful snowfall today, outside this office window. I got off to a good and early start. I am employed (which is a wonder). Looking at things objectively, I know that every day it is better and better.

The word recovery implies that in healing one gets back something that one has lost. I find, however, that I do not necessarily want back what I have lost, nor do I remember it particularly well. It is a blunt fact that at one time I did not have a mental illness. Now I do, with all of its incumbent struggle. Do I have recovery? The answer is no, but I am close. Frankly, I am not sure I will ever arrive at a place when I can honestly say, “There. Now I have recovered.” This does not stop me from wanting to recover. Recovery is a journey one goes on to try to feel better, do better, and be better. We do not define a person's quality by whether or not they have recovered from their mental illness, but rather by the little things that they bring to the world to lighten other people’s paths. I have found a way, in spite of ongoing disease, to feel comfortable that I do in fact do my best. And that, a little thing perhaps, makes all the difference.