Okay, I haven’t jumped on the bandwagon nor climbed in it with both feet, but I’ve acknowledged its presence by crossing my fingers and adding a dash of hope. Why? Because without hope there is no reason to go on. False hope, however, is no panacea, and that’s where I get stymied since, from a personal perspective, my family’s situation is bleak.
On some days, I try to see the big picture. My ill son is living independently (at present) and my other son is finishing law school. I give myself pep talks and look for the good.
On the not-so-good days, I acknowledge that barring a miracle (which I no longer expect), my ill son will deteriorate further since even on his meds he has residual psychosis and impaired cognitive functioning.
So when “they” (those folks in the psych community who push the movement) say “recovery” what does that mean? In my son’s case, he will not return to the functioning person he was before his illness. His “broken” brain will not heal in the way that a broken leg will. He has, in essence, become a different person. Yes, he can go grocery shopping, but with help from a member of his support team. He may be at his best, but is being your “best” (when you function at a reduced capacity), recovery? Not to me, it isn’t, but then I, too, have not recovered and don’t expect to—from my broken heart. But I mustn’t forget that dash of hope …