I never though mental illness would affect me. I always believed having a learning disability was enough to deal with. So when I learned I also had mental health issues, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past it. I blamed myself for being this way. I mused – I should have known.?

I went to school in North Andover, MA with the help of an IEP (Independent Education Plan) throughout grade school. As a kid, I was diagnosed with an “Aspberger’s-like” nonverbal learning disorder. My IEP helped me in my academics some, but I had a hard time socializing. I was the outcast – bullied by my peers. The stinging and painful words that my peers would spew almost every day were painful, and even now sit with me. I had a lifelong rejection from cruel classmates and absent teachers who did nothing to stop the bullying. And I didn’t have the skills to cope with any of it. 

As I moved through high school, things got better. Properly skilled special education teachers, aids and staff can go a long way to the success or failure of individual students in public school settings. My major obstacle in high school was the math portion of the state test required to graduate. My teacher Deb helped me to believe in myself and sat with me on the daily to make sure I’d pass and walk on graduation day – and get my diploma.

I crushed it!

I was so thrilled to finally have a teacher who was the one who would never, ever let me stop believing in myself. It makes me feel like I can accomplish anything. I was so thrilled and joyous to have finally defeated one mountain. I never thought the day would come, but it finally did! I graduated in June of 2006 and received the first ever Principal’s award for most improved student. I was shocked, so much so that I didn’t realize my classmates were giving me a standing ovation. 

As graduation approached, my mom recommended I apply to Landmark College, a school she’d learned about in Putney, VT. I was doing well in high school and my folks encouraged me to check it out. I didn’t know much about Landmark, except that it was for neuro-divergent students and kids with other learning differences. I took a shot and applied. Many weeks later I got a life-changing manilla envelope in the mailbox. At first, I thought I’d been rejected. Expecting more of the same, I opened the envelope and found an acceptance for the coming fall. I was ecstatic. I felt good things were ahead. 

For a while, I was right.

The small campus made the school seem like a cozy community. Now I felt ready to take on the world and begin a new journey in college. I thought this would be a new change. A community of my own. That I’d finally make friends.

In the Fall of 2006, I started my studies full of hope. I got my list of classes, prepared to spend the next couple years working towards my Associate’s degree. But upon my arrival as a freshman, I would still feel ostracized – and alone by a community that should’ve made me feel welcome. I loved my classes and never skipped them, but I would end up isolating myself for the entirety of the two years. I continued to find it hard to feel like anything other than an outcast. I wasn’t socializing to the best of my ability. Sure, I would go to classes and get the grades, but I would go back to my dorm and keep to myself. I’d find some small community towards the end of my time at this college by participating in some extracurricular activities, but it was too little too late.

Graduation snuck up on me. It came on the heels of a terrible ice storm. The anxiety of the unknown, and fear overwhelmed me. I wasn’t myself. I was in my universe. There was something wrong even then that I couldn’t pinpoint.

I did finally graduate with my Associate’s degree in December 2008, and I was accepted to a few colleges for my Bachelor’s degree. I chose a small college in New Hampshire and started in the Spring of 2009, never thinking my life would change forever. I found out I was only a year out from obtaining my bachelor’s degree, but there were obstacles in my way. I was seeing a doctor regularly for some of my physical conditions, I visited my old college where people turned their back on me because they didn’t understand my illness. Visiting triggered PTSD. 

The end of semester was coming up. Exams. School work. There were many small things - everyday things people do. I didn’t know there was anything wrong. It piled up. Became a mountain. I ended up in the hospital. Struggling with psychosis. While I was in the hospital, my mom was making phone calls. She wanted me to find help and community for when I was OK enough to get out of the hospital. I was too sick to be capable of doing anything myself. I had to recover and get better before I could actively find a unique and special community that was all my own. Before I could live on my own again.

When I first got out of the hospital, I lived with my parents for six years until I found The Point After Club. The Point After Club is a place for people who struggle with mental health issues. We socialize. We interact. We support each other with work and education goals. We go on fun activities. To the beach. Red Sox games. Fisher Cats. I finally found my own community of peers who wouldn’t ostracize me or make me feel alone. I became a member of the Point After Club and the staff and other members advocated for me. And I advocated for myself. In 2020, I started living in my own independent housing. I thought I would always be living with my parents in some capacity, not just because of my mental health, but my physical health too. Living on my own I feel lonely sometimes. But that’s normal. It also feels invigorating. I have my own private space. Because of The Point After Club, I can now support others with the same compassion they had for me. 

Today I help others. I talk to people. I listen. I offer resources for support. I welcome new people and show them around the club to help them find where they fit in. My mom helped me. I found help. Now I help others. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Regardless of all my sicknesses and all that happened to me, I came out strong in the end, and I have the support of friends and community behind me to make sure that I stay strong. I was born different. And I was born to tell my story. I’m ready to change the world and to break the stigma! There are so many people who are still afraid of what they don’t know. And there are so many people living with psychosis who live their lives just like everybody else.