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If you ever wanted to take the long way home, here's your chance. Being mentally ill is an experience like no other. You lose control of everything and everyone in your life.

Some feel they will never get a mental illness. Unfortunately, there are no guarantees. My road to recovery was greatly improved by the medicines I've been taking and by the nurturing I received at the day center and at home, but don't think it was easy.

I was 32 years old and had just left my job. I took a severance package, which gave me a few dollars to start and the rest was up to me. I decided to spend my money getting my own apartment. Why, you ask? I was fighting with every member of my family. I didn't trust or believe anything or anyone anymore. I felt isolated and alone. So, I got my own apartment. Now, everything was OK, right?

NO -- far from it!

This was when my "wonderful" adventure started. Not only did I get mentally sick, I got physically sick as well. I had no money for food and left the apartment with the security I had put down. My choices were homelessness or going home to an upset household. Well, my parents made me come home because accepting homelessness was irrational thinking. But things at home just got worse and worse, resulting in a severe emotional breakdown.

This experience was like no other you would want to have in your life. Not only did I cry without reason, hide from the public, and try to run away from home, but hallucinations had begun. I was fighting with my family and the devil. This was no picnic. One day I wrapped my hands with bandages and scared my mother and father to death. I wasn't cut or bleeding at all. This was when they insisted I go to Coney Island Hospital for treatment. I finally agreed I needed help too and didn't give them a hard time. I admitted myself into a psychiatric ward and was kept for three weeks. I was afraid and highly drugged while they were looking for the right medicine for me. I was released and sent to the Day Center. This made me happy because I was glad to be home and away from the hospital.

The center, at first, was a little hard to adjust to, but who would have known it was a Godsend in disguise? It's a pleasure to give credit to my therapist, Robert Perez. He smiled to keep me comfortable and I could go to him anytime there was a problem. He never turned me away! Mr. Perez made sure I stayed with my medication. He didn't ridicule or judge me. He just wanted me to be happy and stabilized. Thanks to him, I was.

Now, the recovery part. I decided, after a short time, I should join a work program and try to get my life back in order. With the help of staff at the Coney Island Outpatient Department of South Beach Psychiatric Center, I soon began working at the Center. I was thrilled, motivated, and determined to take all my responsibilities seriously.

I became a consumer advocate in October of 1996 and I've been enjoying everything about it. I now run the consumer luncheon group on Wednesday, a trip group every other Friday, and a self-help group for people with a diagnosis on Thursdays. Y'know, there are a lot of opportunities out there if you look for them.

My recovery is a seven day a week job. I am politically as well as socially active and I believe this is an important part of the process. The more you put yourself back in society, the better off you are.
Recovery is not exclusive to therapy and treatment. It is an ongoing process that shouldn't be taken for granted. The illness may be there all the time, but if you learn to create a positive atmosphere you can create a great, stress-free life.

I've had a boyfriend for the past couple of months. I have a truly wonderful best friend who keeps me on my toes, and I have several good friends I like to go out with.

It's a wonderful and beautiful feeling now to get up in the morning. I know you can have that feeling too.


UPDATE: It has been two years since I last wrote in this journal. I am enjoying the job I do. It makes me feel like I can help fellow consumers. I have several new friends here at the Resource and Treatment Center. Each can tell a story. Some of my friends say I've helped in their recovery. I've extended a hand to help anyone I could.

Steve K. says I helped him when he was suicidal. He feels I've supported him when nobody else would help. This makes me feel very special. I get chills inside of me. To think I could make such a difference in someone else's recovery. Roberta G., feels I've given her guidance when she was all alone. She feels I've taken her to a new level of awareness. Rochelle R. says I was there when she needed me the most. I could go on, but I'm not much on tooting my own horn.

I do the things I do because I care about my fellow consumers. I know what it's like to be alone and scared. I know how it feels to have a mental illness and I know how it feels to lose all of the people in my life. This includes my friends, family, and society as a whole. But I never gave up hope. I knew God was on my side. With everything I've experienced in life, I want to give back. I want the other consumers to know that I would do anything I can do to help them. My job as a consumer advocate does just that. I get the consumers their entitlements. I run groups on self-help and empowerment. I take them on trips twice a month and I do whatever I can inside and outside the Resource and Treatment Center to help and guide them along.

I think I finally found my purpose in life. I can honestly say I'm happy for the first time in years.