First Person Account:
Landing a Mars Lander
Catherine Parker
The article that follows is part of the Schizophrenia
Bulletin's ongoing First Person Account series. We
hope that mental health professionals—the Bulletin's
primary audience—will take this opportunity to learn
about the issues and difficulties confronted by consumers of mental health care. In addition, we hope
that these accounts will give patients and families a
better sense of not being alone hi confronting the problems that can be anticipated by persons with serious
emotional difficulties. We welcome other contributions
from patients, ex-patients, or family members. Our
major editorial requirement is that such contributions
be clearly written and organized, and that a novel or
unique aspect of schizophrenia be described, with special emphasis on points that will be important for professionals. Clinicians who see articulate patients with
experiences they believe should be shared might
encourage these patients to submit their articles to
Schizophrenia Bulletin, First Person Accounts, EEI
Communications, 66 Canal Center Plaza, Suite 200,
Alexandria, VA 22314.—The Editors.
I hear that making friends is a difficult task and that finding a good friend or a best friend is like trying to land a
Mars lander on Mars. It requires an exact mix of ingredients to make a friendship happen. Even while all the
ingredients seem to be under our control, serendipity often
determines the end result. This has often been my experience. This probably has been the case because making
friends is pretty much a mystery to me. Even though I
have made some friends in my life, I cannot seem to master or understand the skill. Could it be a lack of intelligence? Or is it because I am too quiet? Am I too serious?
Is it because I am too distant? Am I chopped liver? This
last statement could be true. People just might find me not
interesting enough to take notice of me or to want to even
be my acquaintance. This is only speculative acrobatics, a
form of mental mastication when the mind is left idling. If
I knew the answer or had the secret, I think that I would
717
be a happier and more satisfied person. I suspect that the
answer lies in deficient social skills and a poor self-concept and lackluster self-esteem. I do not know.
I have read books on how to improve relationships, and
although me books have helped make a few of my relationships more rewarding, I still have relationship woes. Might
die answer be in reducing my expectations of the number
and quality and intimacy of my relationships? This would be
the answer if I were a rock. I feel that die minimum requirements of relationships in my life for my psychological
health are not met Translation: I feel lonely and isolated.
Perhaps I am only looking for a life partner. But how
can I achieve this goal when I have trouble making
friends? Being friends facilitates forming a bond with a
life partner. This I know vicariously from friends who
have been in romantic relationships. To these friends, I
would never disclose that I have schizophrenia.
Although my first inclination is to tell them about my
mental illness and to gain meir understanding and sympathy, dais would never happen. Schizophrenia is unlike
somatic illnesses in diat people do not empadiize with the
person affected. People widi schizophrenia are seen as
insane, dangerous, deadly, and incomprehensible. The
stigma attached to mental illness is too great a risk to
friendship, and this is why I will now never tell.
However, I consider myself to be normal when I am
on medication (and I thank the higher powers that be or
just plain luck that I was born at a time when there are
methods of successfully managing schizophrenia, with
fewer side effects). And I do function normally when I am
medicated, except for my inability to make friends. I have
friends all right, but they are friends I see a few times a
year. I do not have friends that I can go with to a bar regularly, or to see movies with regularly, or to go shopping
widi regularly, or to talk with regularly. There is a pattern
developing here; however, as I mentioned before, why it
exists is a mystery to me.
If I ever found a potential life partner, I would eventually have to divulge my mental illness. I would, however, be in a quandary as to when to reveal diat I have
C. Parker
Schizophrenia Bulletin, Vol. 27, No. 4, 2001
schizophrenia. A revelation that came too soon could
cause the dissolution of the relationship because of fear
and stigma. Would I ever be capable of "losing it" and
endangering other people, especially people I love? The
newspapers run stories about schizophrenics who kill or
do harm in other ways. This is a lopsided and misguided
view, definitely, considering that the rate of violence and
crime within the schizophrenic community is the same
as the rate of violence and crime within the community
at large. A revelation that came too late could also end
the relationship because the partner might feel as if I had
been lying throughout the relationship. At what point
would the revelation of a mental illness not cause the
partner in a relationship to leave? In other words, is
there a level of intimacy or amount of time passed that
would make the person trust me and be comfortable with
the schizophrenia that I have? At what point would the
person feel like family, not just a boyfriend? And if I did
reach this point in a relationship, would I want children?
Well, of course, I would want children, but would I want
to bring children into the world if they have a chance of
developing schizophrenia? Would I be able to raise my
children without causing them harm and without forever
scarring them?
My immediate family is the greatest asset I have and
the most important aspect of my life. They know who I am
and accept me every bit They have supported me throughout the illness, and they are supporting me as I get back on
my feet to lead a "normal" life. "Normal" is a very subjective word, so I will clarify it by saying that I want to lead a
life free of the symptoms of my illness, with a partner, a
family, and a career. I fear being alone and lonely. I fear that
friends will never be enough and that I will never have
enough of them. I fear being unable to support myself and
having to rely on the social safety net. I fear being homeless
and dying homeless, unidentified, and unloved. I fear losing
my immediate family to the cycle of life. But all these fears
belie how grateful I am for all that I have. I just wish that I
had a little more, enough to land the Mars lander.
The Author
Catherine Parker is the pseudonym of a student who has
completed some of her university degree.
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