Harold Anderson3 said:I suppose I should try to summarize my life, mostly because I’m struggling to make sense of why I feel so profoundly dissatisfied with where I am and who I’ve become.
My parents split up when I was just three years old, largely because my mother battles schizophrenia. I don't have much memory of those early years, but I know what happened through the stories told by others—mostly my paternal grandmother. She once told me that my mother didn't even want to carry me, fearing she would give birth to someone like Hitler; apparently, right after delivery, she was moved from a standard maternity ward to a psychiatric unit, which meant I didn't even see her for three months. Looking back, those might have been my first real traumas—that initial absence of a mother. There was constant fighting between her and my dad, frequent hospital stays, and eventually, by the time I was three, my father pushed for and received a divorce.
For three years following the split, I lived with my grandmother, until my father remarried when I was six. That brought a stepmother and two half-brothers into the picture (one of my stepbrothers was born out of wedlock), and I grew up in that environment until I turned 18. My stepmother was a very cold, high-strung woman; she used to hit all three of us, though her biological son—the one I mentioned—usually took the brunt of it. For me, however, the physical discipline left deeper scars. In school, I was incredibly withdrawn, mostly because I was constantly weighed down by the tension at home, terrified that if I made even the slightest mistake, I'd face more violence. My teachers noticed I was quiet, but they didn't really step in; they were too busy dealing with the more disruptive kids in class, never realizing that the child sitting silently in the corner is often the one carrying the heaviest burden.
As I got older, the punishments at home decreased, but I remained an introverted, somewhat odd kid, bordering on asocial. Academically, I did quite well—I had a real knack for math and later physics—though I suspect I could have done better. During my long study sessions, my mind would frequently drift elsewhere, so I’d say my actual effective learning time was maybe twenty percent. After middle school, I transferred to a specialized math academy in a different city because my local school didn't offer anything that rigorous. Fitting in was a massive struggle; my peers saw me as strange or confused, though they accepted me well enough. I managed to graduate with solid marks, and I even placed second in a regional physics competition.
Later, I decided to move back to my hometown to attend a general high school, which turned out to be a wise choice. The workload was more manageable, and even though I felt a bit less academically driven, I passed every grade with top marks. However, during my sophomore year, I started experiencing intrusive thoughts rooted in homophobia, along with a sudden onset of emotional apathy. This loss of warmth felt like a warning sign, as it's often a precursor to schizophrenia. I felt increasingly lost as time went on, yet somehow, I still managed to finish high school with honors.
College, however, was a different story entirely. I enrolled in the engineering program at a major university in Chicago, but after a disastrous first semester, I ended up hospitalized for depression. That period led to a massive fallout with my father, and since then, I’ve had to support myself entirely. I spent the following year working various odd jobs—construction sites, warehouses (serving food just wasn't my thing)—while preparing to re-apply to school, specifically aiming for MIT. I actually had no trouble getting back in, since the entrance requirements focused mainly on math, physics, and my high school GPA.
After a second unsuccessful first semester, my mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, leading to two consecutive psychotic episodes, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia.
I have recovered reasonably well since then. I’ve been consistently medicated for over four years now, and while things improved, they only ever stabilized to the level I was at before the psychosis. The depression, the confusion, the slowness, and the social isolation remain. This year, I finally withdrew from my studies at MIT; the curriculum is just too grueling for me—honestly, maybe any intense program would be too much for someone in my position.
Since moving to the city seven years ago, I’ve worked a lot of part-time student jobs, and everywhere I go, the feedback is the same: people describe me as anxious, confused, or antisocial. In some places, I was able to stay on, but in others, I was let go. Once, a coworker actually asked me, "Why are you so quiet? You act like someone everyone just walks all over." Another person was even crueler, asking if I was so socially stunted because of some childhood trauma involving my relatives.
My doctor is involved with a private non-profit, so I’ve been attending free group psychotherapy sessions there. In those sessions, they try to reassure me that I'm normal and that I'm just overthinking things—and granted, compared to people facing much more severe mental crises, I suppose I am. But when I step out into the world and interact with healthy, neurotypical people, I can see clearly that I am not like them, and unfortunately, many people tell me the same thing.
The hardest part for me is feeling like there isn’t any real way to change things down the road. I have this deep desire to just have a normal career and a family of my own, but given my health struggles and just how I am wired, that feels like pure science fiction. These late hours at night are especially tough on me. I find myself looking back at my past with so much negativity, feeling completely unfulfilled with where I am now, and viewing the future through a pretty pessimistic lens. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to specialists and I stay consistent with my medications—things like Risperdal, Zyprexa, Effexor, and Norvasc—and I even dive into self-help books quite often, yet I still can't shake this sense of dissatisfaction with my life. It honestly feels like everyone else is more capable and much happier than I am. Since most of my existence feels like an uphill battle, there are moments when I genuinely wish I had never been born.
I’m just hoping someone here might be able to relate to what I’m going through, and that I’ve managed to convey the weight of my situation even a little bit. Thanks in advance for listening. 🙂
Ha, quite an interesting story.🙂
Look, you aren't alone in this; you aren't some unique outlier. You should read the impressions and experiences of others who grapple with your specific problem or something similar. You will see that with proper, consistent therapy, one can live quite a decent life—provided you live in accordance with your current capabilities.
That is where the issue lies.
You are comparing your life as it once was to how it is now, and based on those two unrealistic frameworks, you are constructing your entire future.
No matter how you approach it, the future always appears jagged and uneven.
Essentially, something within that thought process must shift; every single time, the result is poor—much like our national basketball team's performance lately.😁
Lower your expectations, because you are starting—or rather, you are already operating—from entirely different parameters due to the disorder.
First, you must come to terms with yourself; you are who you are, and there is no other version of you. This won't just vanish, but it can recede, allowing you to live normally alongside that realization.
I have been on medication for nearly twenty years. If a disorder is such that it cannot tolerate occasional breaks in treatment, then you take them and you understand your reality.
Psychotherapy is, on one hand, a massive leap forward in reducing the stigma surrounding mental health, and on the other, a vital step toward better social communication.
Please, do not abandon psychotherapy.
It isn't easy, I know, but examine all the options—even the ones you feel don't exist—analyze the situation as objectively as possible, draw a line in the sand, and you will see that you do have choices: you can live a quality life.
Even a demanding job can sometimes provide immense satisfaction simply because everything was accomplished by your own will and your own hands.
Falling into despair is merely an unnecessary waste of precious time.
Tuck the past away into "drawers" in your mind, and using these facts about yourself, begin to slowly build a future.😉