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Recovery starts when you ask yourself: “How do I want to live my life? What do I want to achieve?” Then you take steps to get there and do those things.
Early on, I wrote down my goals, and revisited them every day. My therapist kidded me that I sometimes set goals I’d already achieved, and wrote them down after the fact, just to have something to cross off.
I believe it’s possible for someone with schizophrenia to hold a good job, marry, have kids, or do any of the things so-called “normals” can do. Yet we need to accept that sometimes we have to devise an original method for achieving such goals, one that takes into account our strengths and weaknesses.
In 1997, I chose to go to graduate school for a master’s degree in library and information science. I worked full-time, took two courses, and spent 40 hours a semester writing articles, reporting, and interviewing people for Keyword, the Pratt Institute library science newsletter.
As a result, in the fall of 1999, I came down with mononucleosis. That autumn, I was passed over for a promotion at my job. My schedule in graduate school was grueling and demanding, but self-imposed. A lot of the other students just wanted to get the degree, and they did the bare minimum. I took on extracurricular activities and did what it took to get a 3.89 grade point average out of 4.00.
I don’t recommend this. Even today I don’t know if the stress I felt, after my boss crossed me and hired someone else, contributed to the “chatter” I sometimes experience in my head. When my self-doubt flares up, and I criticize myself, scrutinizing every negative thought that slips in, it’s hard to feel good about myself.
In the fall of 2003, the week of the anniversary of 9/11, I had a mini-meltdown. My brother is an FDNY firefighter who is alive today only because he responded to the World Trade Center site in the late afternoon. Ever since this minor thought snafu, the chatter comes and goes.
Though I don’t have any of the clinical symptoms I presented when I was diagnosed, I do feel I risked quite a bit when I decided to take on the world. I’m able to do as much as I do because I take the medication as prescribed, every day of my life.
As a result of the possibility of another breakdown, I’ve decided to resign from writing the Bruni in the City column. At the end of this year, and in 2007, I’ll be working on my website and publishing my memoir. That’s the only committed goal I have: to work on these two things, and make them a success.
Thus, I will take on no new activities or board memberships. It’s time for me to be good to me—to preserve my health, get enough rest and sleep, and exercise. I want to do fun things and meet new people.
Besides, I want to refresh my mind and recharge my batteries. I tend to multi-task—to shift from one thing to the next quickly, non-stop. It seems I can’t slow down, but this year I have to. I’ve decided to stop trying to do more than is humanly possible.
Instead, I’ll publish and promote my book, and go on the book tour. That’s all I will do because that’s all I can do without having another breakdown or contracting some kind of physical illness.
It has been a joy and a pleasure to write the Bruni in the City column. I feel I don’t have to prove myself to anyone anymore. I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams, and I know it’s possible for you to succeed too.
I wish you good fortune. If you see me on the street, living life in this city—the true heartland of America—say hello. I’ll stop and talk and maybe we’ll have lunch.