When Doctor's Can't

I spent my 40th birthday trying not to get frostbite. I was homeless. Not aspiring singer-songwriter living in their car homeless. Sleeping on a sidewalk in the snow on Christmas Eve homeless. Blood running down my leg because I can’t afford feminine hygiene products homeless. No food stamp card because there’s no mailbox to send it to homeless. And now. This is the story of my journey with mental illness. It has taken me through the streets, through divorce, through hospitals where the doors locked on the outsides. It may sound like a devastating story of trauma and heartbreak. And now. I have a diagnosis. I have a disease called schizoaffect. You’ve probably never heard of it, but one in about a thousand people in the United States share it with me. It is basically a mood disorder where I have paranoia, delusions, and even a couple of times hallucinations. It is considered more serious than bipolar disorder but not quite as serious as schizophrenia. 90% of people with the disorder are not able to work or function in society. It can be treated with medications but, like schizophrenia, medications may not entirely resolve all symptoms. Maybe you are tempted to quit reading at this point because you are nothing like me. You have never been homeless. You have never been in an institution. You still have friends. You work and function and go about your business just fine. You just have a little case of the baby blues, or maybe a touch of anxiety. Wasn’t this book supposed to be about how to feel better without doctors? Maybe you’re thinking “If anyone needs a psychiatrist it’s this lady. She’s crazy. I wouldn’t let her around my family on a whole cocktail of meds, let alone condone her running around like there’s nothing wrong with her.” You would not be alone in this sentiment. Although one in four people in the U. S. has a mental health diagnosis now, most people do their best to hide it. It is not talked about. When I was sick, I couldn’t hide it like you probably can. I was fired from jobs, lost every friend I ever had, lost my husband, was told I couldn’t get a license in my field of education because “I shouldn’t be allowed to be around children”. Like I was a child molester, like I was a serial killer, Ilke I had personally chosen this illness that made life so hard through immorality and bad behavior. While I could probably spend an entire book recounting the hurts and slights received at the hands of other, sometime well-meaning people, this book is not a bitter story of loss. There are tough moments along the way, but this book is a story of victory, triumph, triumph of the human spirit. I am writing because I want to show you how to claim this victory for yourself, no matter how slight or severe your mental health diagnosis. At first, I did not want to share my story. I wanted to write a cut and dry self-help book. Dredging up everything I have been through seemed way too painful. However, I need you to know that I am an expert on this topic. I have spent decades reading and researching how to get better, how to make myself “normal” again. After all there is no doctor as invested in my recovery as I am. This is an accumulation of all the good things I know about helping yourself get better, and it is my gift to you.