When I was first admitted to a psychiatric unit, I thought that I did not fit in and did not belong there. Boy was I wrong. Not only did I seem to fit, I could relate to their symptoms and stories.

I heard other patients talking about losing their children, divorces, friends abandoning them, and losing other things in their life. How nieve I was. I thought that would not happen to me.

Life happened. All of the above came true. Then I tried to get myself together. That was a mistake. I realized that I don’t fit in with “normal” people so well. Others can look me up and find out that I lost my kids and that I am sick. They do not want me as a part of their world.

Then I worked with my doctor on getting a degree that I could use. Funny, I thought that other social workers would accept a fellow student with a mental illness. Instead I was alienated and told that I was to ill to complete the program and be an effective social worker.

In order to go to school I had to take out loans. Now, I cannot complete my degree and am having issues paying back the loan. “Permanent Disability”. That is what I apparently am considered at this point. Someone who does not have the ability to get a job and will not be able to for the foreseeable future.

Maybe it is true. I am scared to leave the house and interact with others. I have to take medication just to not feel suicidal all day. I spend many hours going back and forth to doctors and therapy.

Is this really my life? Medications, therapy, doctors. Add to that the physical problems I am now having. Karma is against me.

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