“Dreams are always crushing when they don’t come true. But it’s the simple dreams that are often the most painful because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You’re always close enough to touch, but never quite close enough to hold and it’s enough to break your heart.”
— Nicholas Sparks (Three Weeks With My Brother)
Explaining to my best friend Afina, who I was in love with, that I had schizophrenia, was crushing. I explained the symptoms. I even briefly described the Otherworld.
Her response? She thought I was probably possessed by demons. Yes, the future special education teacher thought that the schizophrenic was being harassed by Satan’s minions.
Of all people, I was counting on her to understand me. Because of all people, I valued her opinion and input the most. I desperately wanted my best friend to understand what I was going through and be supportive. I wanted her to ask questions, to listen, to tell me that we would get through this together.
It was then that Afina broke my heart. Because she had witnessed me dropping my perfect mask for the first time, and had labeled a significant part of my identity as the work of the devil. Schizophrenic Sable was not the person she befriended fifteen years ago. She wanted Perfect Paige instead. The stable, low-maintenance Catholic girl.
She has come to accept my schizophrenia as part of me that isn’t going away any time soon. And she has listened while I have updated her on the status of my mental health. But I have never forgotten the moment when I confided in her, and she suggested that the part of me that I had been afraid to show her, that piece of me that I entrusted her with, was demonic.
Post 57 in Socially Unacceptable: The Daily Life of a Queer Schizophrenic Wreck (2022)
This is an autobiographical series about my life, something I have wanted to do for a long time. I intend to add new content daily.
For the whole series, follow this link.
The Queer Schizophrenic 