Making It

I’m often reminded of the Mad TV skit “Lowered Expectations” when I think of my battles with mental health. I’ve come to accept some serious mediocrity because I know it’s as good as I can reasonably expect. I was improperly medicated for 12 years and the effect that had on my life was severe. I also didn’t have consistent access to therapy — not that it much matters if the meds aren’t right to begin with.

It wasn’t always like this. I was such a high achiever, and now I work as an independent contractor for some shady sales organization with nothing better on the horizon. I was once pre-med at Berkeley. Those days are long, long gone. I’m simply not capable of achieving such lofty goals anymore. Or at least that’s what my experience has proven.

So, I temper my expectations for myself. I figure this job is pretty much as good as I can get, especially considering the legal issues that now haunt me, all direct results of mental illness. My dad periodically asks if I’ve found a better job yet, and I have to disappoint him every time. He still remembers the math whiz with the world at her fingertips. I’m not that person anymore. I have a lot of very real limitations now.

Despite the obstacles in front of me, I remain a very ambitious person. I’m on job boards weekly looking to change my lot in life. Most places aren’t willing to accommodate my unique needs as an employee, but every now and then I find one who is. When those opportunities come along, they give me hope. I recently lost out on a particularly promising position due to my own idiocy, and have entered a period of mourning. I don’t know when the next opportunity like that will come along. I could be making $120K a year right now if I hadn’t fucked up.

On Friday I received a promotion in my current role to Business Development Manager. I’ll be responsible for closing deals, which is experience I desperately need. Even though it’s not the company I want to be with forever, this feels like decent progress. My employer thought of me for the promotion out of everyone else because of how consistent, organized, and determined I am. Those are all qualities I have strived to achieve as an employee, so it feels good to hear that about myself from my manager.

For being two years out from psychosis, I think I’m doing pretty well for myself. I have to remember to give myself credit where credit is due. I can’t let people like my father get to me. My level of success may not ever be enough for him, because he doesn’t understand mental illness. He’s very much of the “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality. In reality, my mental illness is totally out of my control. There is no way I could have coped on my own when I lost contact with reality.

I’m getting by, and that gets me through the day today. With more years of stability under my belt, things will only get easier for me.