Acceptance of the slip
I have schizophrenia. My dad had it, his dad had it, it’s just how it goes for us.
I take all the medication they give me - on time, every time. I go to my therapy sessions - on time, every time. I’m a very happy and healthy person, my life is in its peak, but my mind is only getting more slippery.
It feels like my perception of reality is walking on ice, where every once in a while a step doesn’t stick and my foot slides out a bit. It’s a stumble, not a fall, but I’m staggering a bit more every week.
I knew this is how it would go, I just thought I had more time, and I thought I’d - by some divine chance - be more graceful about it.