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What I didn’t have to give up because of schizoaffective disorder
It’s all gone. That’s what I thought when I received my schizophrenia diagnosis, later updated to schizoaffective disorder. In my head, I watched everything I’d wanted and planned go up in flames. At first, I was resigned to it. But, over a year later, mental health advocacy caught my eye and I took up the chant that a diagnosis on the schizophrenia spectrum is not a death sentence. And, though I stand by that, I think mental health advocacy, at least when it comes to severe mental illness, misses some things. This illness isn’t my fault, but I still felt like, by having it, I had to give certain things…
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The Right to Feel – How I Stopped Blaming Myself for My Mental Illness
I’ve felt like I don’t have a right to be as broken as I am. I grew up with a loving family. We weren’t wealthy, but I never wanted for necessities. Growing up, the largest trauma I thought I faced was my parents’ amicable divorce. My mom moved several times, remarried, and my brother and I had to change elementary schools, but I actually preferred the new school. I can’t look back and spot significant hardship until high school. Lately, I argue with my psychiatrist – that others have had it worse. That I don’t have a right to feel this emotional turmoil. Yes, I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder…