Depending on how bad I am before I end up hospitalized, it can take a while before I’m back to normal. Of course during that time I have zero concept of time, so I couldn’t give you an exact timeframe. I would hazard to guess that the longest it’s taken me to recover to a doctors standards, is roughly a month. Though the effects of being severely sick can last a longer time, roughly six months before I deem myself better. Sure I can blend into society and function but in my mind I’m fighting for sanity long past a month.
If you’ve read my post “My Worst Episode”, you know that it was by far my worst episode to date. I unfortunately made the mistake of not entering the hospital, even before that I didn’t take the time to look at the signs.
So skip forward to when I was put back on risperidone and initially started my recovery. It didn’t help that I was in a bad situation hindering my recovery. It was easily two weeks before I started showing signs of getting better. After that it was slow going and it felt like I would never get better. I’d say around week three I was getting more and more rational and though still delusional, I was able to begin fighting for reality.
Week four and five were the real winning weeks. My confidence in myself had grown enough to where I was convinced I was able to drive. Of course people around me were skeptical, for good reason but I was hell bent on escaping my situation and wanted to start rebuilding my life.
Once deemed okay by their standards, my wife and I made our escape and the long eight hour journey home. By home I mean we stayed with family because we had no where else to go, no home to go back to.
Immediately I started my search for a job even though I wasn’t quite all there. The stress of our new situation prolonged an already long recovery but anything was better than where we were. I landed a job at a pizza restaurant delivering food.
If you were to ask anyone who truly knows me from the restaurant, they’ll say I was really weird when I first started.
While still recovering and now working, I was desperate to repair the relationship between my wife and I. This was her first time ever experiencing the disaster my illness can cause. I will say that she handled it like a champ, she stuck by me no matter what. Suffice it to say though that it strained our relationship. I still to this day admire the strength it to took her to stay. Thus solidifying our relationship. Though I will never give my fight to stay mentally healthy, I know that if I fall she’ll be there. As you can probably tell though, repairing a relationship while working and still not being mentally healthy was beyond difficult.
Months went by and I could still feel the delusions tugging and taunting me. Waiting for me to slip up so that they could pull me back into the abyss.
I was pissed at the world, pissed at myself and pissed at the god I once believed in. My anger was my drive, my past my motivation and with my future hanging in the balance, nothing was going to stop me. I’ve never felt motivation like that before, it made a big enough impact that it’s carried to this day, almost three years later. Though the anger has mostly faded, my will to reach my goals remains.
I look back ever now and again at the hell that was my life. It fills me with a sense of urgency. It fills me with the urgency to push myself, to never fall again, to go higher and higher.
Here I am almost three years later, working two jobs and being up for promotion at one of them. Mentally healthier than I’ve ever been while having it in my heart to be even better.
Never give up, you never know what you’re capable of until you’re tested. The feeling you get from beating the worst has a way of changing you, of motivating you and showing you what you’re made of. Good luck!