My Schizo-versary: How I Reclaimed a Day That Changed My Life

Five years ago this week, I was smoking a cigarette outside a Panera Bread when I finally summoned the courage to Google 4 words that would change my life forever.

My phone loaded the results of my search for "characteristics of schizophrenic delusions" nearly instantly. Then I found myself staring at evidence of my schizophrenia I could no longer refute: descriptions of how common it is for people with this condition to believe the media is sending them messages, that they are much more grandiose than reality, and that everyone around them is either acting on their behalf or out to get them. AKA: what I had been experiencing daily for the past 10 months.

I took another drag of my cigarette. Goddammit, I thought. What the hell do I do now?

Realizing I had schizophrenia

First things first, I finished my cigarette. Then I went back inside the Panera Bread and asked my mom, who was working inside the restaurant on her laptop, if we could leave.

I told my mom about my revelation on the way home. That night, I slept in her bed. The next morning, my mom took the razor out of the shower before I woke up because she was worried I'd use it for self-harm.

In those early days of recovery, I briefly considered writing the date I came out of psychosis down somewhere so I wouldn't forget it. It felt like a monumental occasion, a date that would matter to me for the rest of my life.

An anniversary I wouldn't forget

But if I made myself remember this date, I'd never have a normal October 26 again. Every year on that day, I'd be consumed with reminders that I was broken.

In the end, I decided not to write the date down anywhere and gradually, I forgot.

The next year on October 26, I was vaguely aware that this was the time of year that I came out of psychosis. But I could no longer remember the exact date.

I was working full-time at the best job I'd ever had, even before I got sick, where no one knew about my diagnosis. My care team had advised against taking such a high-level position, but I was trusting my gut that I could handle it. So far, so good.

Coworkers didn't understand my "schizo-versary"

It felt great to excel at a job no one, including many of my relatives and all of my doctors, thought I could handle. But I hated having to hide. I swallowed my discomfort as coworkers used the word "schizophrenic" incorrectly and pejoratively in my presence, like when one coworker remarked, "I'm working on so many projects I feel like I'm schizophrenic!”

The following year on October 26, I was working my first full-time job in the mental health field. But I still felt misunderstood by my colleagues, many of whom romanticized mental illness.

I mentioned I was coming up on my 2-year anniversary at work. I got plenty of "Congrats!" comments and heart emoji reactions during the Zoom call. But I didn't feel like the people who congratulated me really understood what I'd overcome. Still, I felt alone.

Reflecting on my years since psychosis

When October 26 rolled around the year after that, I was on disability leave from work after 3 back-to-back psychiatric hospitalizations. Some of my relatives began to question whether I'd be able to work at the same level again after being hospitalized so many times.

It stung when they questioned my capabilities. But it hurt even more that they did so with smiles, as though the death of my career wasn't a tragedy.

Two years out of psychosis, and what did I have to show for it? I was on leave from an employer who would eventually lay me off for taking more disability leave than they could reasonably allow. For all I knew, despite my 2 years in the workforce post-onset, I was destined to be another statistic.

Bad years and good years

By October 26 of 2023, I had gotten my mental health in order again. I'd been working at a national foster care nonprofit organization for a few months, and it was going well so far. But I was plagued with imposter syndrome.

My relatives' unsupportive comments floated to the front of my mind regularly. What if they were right? What if it was only a matter of time until my next hospitalization put me out of work?

This October 26, 2024, I'm happy to report I'm still working at the same awesome foster care organization. I did have to take accommodations earlier this year, but I'm glad to say it didn't impede the success of my projects and my employer was beyond understanding.

Reclaiming my schizo-versary!

I'm also happy to report I have reclaimed my schizo-versary. This is the first October 26 I've been aware it's my shizo-versary, thanks to some fact-finding efforts I underwent earlier this year. I found a USB drive from right after I came out of psychosis that had time-stamped files I remembered uploading 2 days after psychosis. When I plugged the drive into my computer and saw the timestamps, I was able to do quick math to figure out the actual date of my schizo-versary.

This year, I'm observing the day with activities that mark my journey: a reflective walk along the beach, a mani-pedi to congratulate myself on my progress, and a celebration with friends to round out the day.

My schizo-versary is shaping up to basically be a second birthday celebration. After many iterations, I think this is how my schizo-versary was meant to be recognized.

Doing something just for you

Chances are, you don't relate to your schizophrenia in the exact same way I do. Therefore, your perfect schizo-versary observance won't look identical to mine.

But this year, consider doing something just for yourself on the anniversary of a significant date in your schizophrenia journey. You deserve it, and it just might help you see yourself and your illness differently.