What 'Success' Means in My Life – Even With Schizophrenia
I am an English teacher. I was diagnosed with schizophrenia in 2012, the year I started my teaching career.
I attempted suicide, and survived, that December 21st night. The same day the Mayas predicted the end of an era. This was a new life. New beginning. New lifestyle. My life got better. In 2013, I received treatment, so I took pills and the good news kept coming. I was accepted into a teaching program. I got a job which a maintained for three years. A teacher with schizophrenia. Can you imagine that? How excited I was. I enjoyed this job. I taught kids, teens and adults. Then I got a beautiful girlfriend. We lasted two years as a couple. I proposed to her and she said yes, but her parents would not allow me to be with her. Then my parents got divorced, and my girlfriend almost left me. In 2015, I ended up in the hospital during my second episode.
The doctor said I would be there for two weeks, but I recovered fast. I met my friend Angela, who taught me how to breathe, how to meditate, to feel the aura of the plants, to recognize the nature and the beauty in it; to be a “normal” person as “normal” am I. I saw her stretching her arms and body. It was amazing the calm she reflected. While in the hospital, I also wanted to be visited. I liked to see my mother, my father, but my girlfriend never appeared, or my brother. I was relieved my mind healed fast so I could see my girlfriend.
We broke up next year: 2016. This was a bad year, one of the worst of my life. I wanted to be with her. In addition, my parents were deciding where I could live after the divorce arrangement. I lived alone, but I fell into depression. I was sad because everything I was fighting for was falling down again. This year started without my girlfriend, without a house, without parents together and without a job. The only thing left was my schooling. This year was my last.
My senior year I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, and this was hard. I didn’t finish school. My dreams were vanishing just like a purposeless bell-shaped broken heart ringing to silence. I cried a lot.
But I will keep it up. I will finish my career. Everything I fought for is not going to be in vain. I am planning to come back the next two years to finish my B.A in English, even if it takes eight years to end this one. I only need to be recognized by the people I love the most: my family and the people I could inspire, such as my own dear students. So, I will finish my B.A. One day I will thank everybody and God. Oh God, music and superheroes saved my life.
See you then! I will come back! Stronger and better. There is time.
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Lead photo via contributor