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There was a time in my life right after my hospitalization where I felt myself burst if I didn't tell someone who I was, that I was a person who was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. I did. I had to. The person I told was a friend at the time and a therapist. We didn't talk about it much. But he knew. And it helped. My frantic anxiety dissipated.

When do you disclose that you suffer with a major mental illness? When does one risk self-disclosure? How does one assimilate into society when one isn't working or going to school?

For me it was easier. I have a dual diagnosis. I have schizoaffective disorder (a cross between schizophrenia and a mood disorder), agoraphobia and social anxiety too. Why am I not working? I have panic attacks, I say. People understand. But before this, when I felt I could not disclose, I'd simply turn the question back on them and say, "No, I'm not working. Are you working? What do you do? And those simple little phrases helped enormously. After all, maybe I had a rich relative! It is none of their business.

I wasn't involved in any creative pursuits at the time. The side effects of the drug I was on obliterated any hope of that. Writing was not feasible. I couldn't concentrate. But some creative pursuit is another way people handle this ordeal I've learned.

But when do you disclose to friends? My first disclosure to a "normal" was to a pen pal. It was on paper. It was easier. And I built up a relationship.

I had one friend, a nice person. I said, "I'm afraid of what you'll think of me after I tell you this, but I'm choosing to tell you anyway" and I shakily swallowed hard and voiced the dreaded words, "I'm on anti-psychotic medication." I almost fell off my chair when she told me back that her husband was also bipolar. How would I have found this intimacy if I didn't tell a friend?

We can't just stay in our little worlds and confide only to other people with mental problems. We must break out and assimilate. We must let people know us. See us. Have our voice heard. They don't know us and they're often just afraid. They don't understand that the person they share coffee with at work may have a psychiatric label that they would never surmise. We must teach people not to be afraid. And we must not be afraid of being ourselves with others, with "normals" or with the close friends we make.

Some people are even close-mouthed to fellow consumers. How often have I heard, "My problems are my business, no one else's!" There was a little of that with myself. If you can't bare your soul (even a bit?) to your peers you really cut yourself off.

One cautionary note: be careful not to set yourself up for rejection. There's no rush in this. Do what feels right. If you can't tell what feels right, experiment. It's okay to get a little rejected now and then, even patronized. When this happens, you appreciate your true friends more.

There's something more I'd like to disclose. I want to be "a shrink." A psychotherapist is what I feel I'm called to do. I'm tired of hiding the fact that I've almost completed my Bachelor of Science degree in psychology from before I was ill. I want to be me now. I need to be me, just as I first needed to tell another soul that I suffered with severe mental illness 15 years ago. I want to burst out in life and in middle age return to college. I will do this.

You are more experienced in life. We [consumers] are interesting people to know. Ever think of it that way? Don't be too afraid to disclose at the right time with people close to you. Practice with fellow consumers. We can live and we can thrive even with a diagnosis of mental illness.

This is what it means to risk disclosure. It's what the late educator Leo Buscaglia once remarked, "If you ever expect yourself to be loved, you must reveal who you are." Ponder those words for a moment and let them sink in. It's a tragedy if you don't. And if you don't, then, my friend, you are really disabled.