Image by Daniel Reche from Pixabay
It was quite a shock for me when the independent psychiatrist asked me during my forced stay in the mental hospital what I thought of my diagnosis “schizophrenia”. It was the first time I heard my diagnosis. For the rest of our conversation the diagnosis “schizophrenia” echoed in my head. I associated “schizophrenia” with: being an outcast and violence. It was as if I was told that I was inferior and no longer part of society. Because of my illness, my husband wanted a divorce from me, I saw my child less, I quit my job at the university, and the side effects of the medicines I fell into a depression. I felt lonely and useless.
Hiding my mental illness
In the beginning I had difficulties talking about my illness. I published writings about my experiences using a pseudonym. When I still worked at the university, I didn’t dare tell my colleagues that I had suffered from a psychosis. After I quit my job, I wanted to find a new job desperately. I was afraid that an employer wouldn’t hire me if I discussed my illness. That is why I didn’t mention it on job applications. I did mention it twice, for job applications in the mental health sector. For one position, they offered me a voluntary job instead of the paid job they advertised for in the ad.
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