On being alone and other stuff

When I was in the psych ward at the University of Utah I had a very intense occupational therapist.  I remember a group that she taught on support networks.  She explained that we, the mentally ill patients,  needed to have a large number of people in our support networks.  The reason, she explained, was so that we did not burn anyone out.

I was furious when the occupational therapist said that.  We were the sick ones, I thought.  People should be bending over backwards to help out the mentally ill!  And since they, the sane ones, ARE sane, they should be more than capable of helping us, the insane.

Almost two years later, I feel that she was right, and unfortunately, I was wrong.  A large support structure is very necessary.  And they, the sane, are more than capable of helping out the insane.  But capable does not always equate to able.  Even the most sane can be burned out by the insane.

I now realize how scary I seem when I am ill.  I talk a mile a minute.  I don't have boundaries.  I jump from one thought to the next, and appropriate conversation does not seem like something that I can manage.  I have looked back at pictures and seen the physical differences in the medicated and un-medicated Steve.  The main difference is in the eyes.  I have big eyes no matter what, but when I am un-medicated my eyes are bigger and have a wild look.  And the scariest aspect by far is the intensity I have.  I am like a raging inferno of emotion.  (Even as I write I realize that I am always intense.  Scary thought for sure.)

When I moved out to New York from Utah, I burned out my support networks.  I was impossible to be around, as I mentioned in the above paragraph, and I had to fight my battles mostly on my own.  I had two great friends who stood by me on a daily basis, but for the most part I had to negotiate the insanity by myself.  I started walking back then.  I would wear my mom's full length green winter coat and walk the 45 minutes down to main street in my hometown and walk up and down main street for hours.  I said some embarrassing things, a lot of embarrassing things actually.  I made a fool of my self in many ways.  But my walks were a support of sorts that I could not burn out.

Gradually I got better.  I have been through six months in a group home, and now I have lived on my own for almost a year.  I still walk, I still think, I am still the same insane man.  But over the last two years I have done just what my occupational therapist said.  I have spread out my support network.  Doctor, therapist, and too many friends to count.  The medication has done wonders as well.

So I reach out to all those who are alone.  Who are struggling.  These words are here for you.  You will get by.  You will get better.  Over time, you will learn how to reach out to many.  But for now, know that you are strong enough.  You are valued at more than gold!  Being alone sucks, but you can do it!  On your own.  If I did it, anyone can.  Blessings be upon you and my the Universe guide you!