Acceptance

 

Acceptance 

Jason Jepson

Schizophrenia Bulletin, Volume 42, Issue 3, May 2016, Page 534, https://doi.org/10.1093/schbul/sbt118

Published:

 

Most people with a mental illness have something like social anxieties. They may ask themselves, will they accept me or will they understand. It is a hill to climb or a lock on the door. Even people without a mental illness feel and ask these questions.

The most important thing we as mental health consumers can do is accept ourselves. Are you willing to climb that hill? If you are, in most cases, you will be glad you did.

People like to talk about sports, music, or movies to name a few. You can be that face in the crowd that people will be happy to see. We all have a place.

I experience my self-acceptance at a bar.

Now a bar isn’t the best place to meet people, and if you take medication that is affected by alcohol, then you definitely should be careful, maybe drink less than moderation.

There was nothing spectacular about that night. If anything, it was typical, but something was in the air, a day of reckoning as the headlines said after the assault after the World Trade Center went down. However, I was just a guy drinking beer at an Irish pub on a Friday night. Instead of being a victim of circumstance resulting in a mental illness, I stepped out of my comfort zone without fear of rejection. I had accepted the fact I was alone, I accepted the fact I had a mental illness, and I accepted the fact the some people didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t care.

I felt like I stayed a lot longer than my tab said I did. I paid for my five beers and left alone the same way I arrived. I had talked with an ex-hippie and some women. We might have just spoken about the weather but the last thing on my mind was the fact I had a mental illness. I have even forgotten instead of feeling sorry for myself, I left empowered.

I walked to my car, turned it on. The radio was still on National Public Radio. It was an all Beethoven’s night. I turned it up. I didn’t turn it up, I blared it to the streets of Richmond. It was his ninth symphony, and it made me feel enlightened. Why should I feel ashamed of who I am? The bad experiences and rough times came back in flashbacks. I didn’t regret anything. They had made me who I am. I am enlightened.

But I was still alone. I wanted to share my feelings with someone, but it was just about midnight and I had no one to call. Even if I did, they wouldn’t understand. I was fine with that. I had accepted myself. Alone, I felt as if I was standing on top of a mountain and yelling down at the valleys that had me in the grips of schizophrenia and raging war on the future. This was not the end, but only the start of becoming an individual that can stand and say, “I Am and will always be ME.”

 

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