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Page 2
Living in the community, we could only afford a room with shared bathroom and kitchen, that is, we sat in our room if we weren't outside walking. We had no where to go, though, because we had so little money. We felt abandoned and were isolated socially, financially, sexually, in every way imaginable. Even our own families would have little to do with us. We had tried everything possible to resume a normal life and given up. We felt we were "losers" and were ashamed to be living in the community. Normal people had their jobs, their families, their cars, their friends and their summer cottages. We had nothing but the shirt on our backs and a future of Kraft dinners. We were ready to throw in the towel and spend the rest of our lives in the hospital where we would at least eat steak every once in awhile. That was about eight years ago. As individuals we kind of went our separate ways. We're more or less forty years old now. Slowly we each found a niche of sorts. Four of us are working part time, for minimum wage or less usually. We've almost given up on the idea of ever having a girlfriend who doesn't have a mental illness, although we all have much more contact with normal people. Three of us eventually got subsidized one bedroom apartments and really appreciate them. I waited seven years for mine. I got interested in computers because there was one in a group home I lived at for awhile and bought one with money I was supposed to give to the government. I buy a new one every three years with my savings and a little help from my father. I courted a woman who has schizophrenia and we lived together for awhile until changes in government policies on cohabitation forced us to separate.
The copyright of the article A Long Journey Begins with the First Step - Page 2 in Schizophrenia is owned by . Permission to republish A Long Journey Begins with the First Step - Page 2 in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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