It should be clear to anyone who frequents Mental Health Affairs that I am living with a mental health condition. I’ve explored my identity here in various ways, through written narratives and real-world actions. The objective? To better understand myself and then share those insights with the reader.
So, who exactly is J. Peters? On the surface, I am a therapist, advocate, friend, and more. Yet, if I dig deeper, I find that these roles neither define me nor capture the essence of my ongoing journey to recovery. Few people challenge these self-proclaimed identities, either because they agree or don’t care enough to delve into the complexities of my personal journey. Nevertheless, the persona that you see in my writing is one that I continually shape and reshape. That is, after all, the purpose of this platform.
Why does this focus on identity? Perhaps my writing has been predominantly self-centered, a required condition for my personal growth. I had to accelerate my language grasp to re-engage meaningfully with the world.
Until recently, I was dissatisfied with the level of articulation I had regained post-psychosis. But now, as people in my life and community affirm, my linguistic skills have been restored. I’ve regained my eloquence, received praise for my insight, and put the destruction caused by psychosis behind me. It’s time to heed these voices because behind their literal meaning lies my self-absorption and a disregard for the broader context of mental health in society.
I triumphed in restoring my communication ability, a pivotal milestone in my recovery journey. Yet, in this achievement lies an unexpected isolation. My laser focus on reclaiming my intellectual prowess left me in a more secluded space than where my disorder had initially placed me.
Reaching this unique mental and emotional state has cast me into a lonely abyss, possibly arousing envy or resentment in others. But it’s more complex than that. My intense quest to distance myself from my own turmoil has propelled me into a sphere that paradoxically feels even more challenging than the disorder I fought so hard to overcome.
Why this paradox? There was too much chaos in the mayhem of my earlier mental state to feel the weight of loneliness. Having distanced myself from that chaos, I face a new kind of fear and isolation. I’ve become an enigma, even among my peers in the mental health community.
So here I am, having fought off the chaos of my disorder, only to find that the fight has led me into a new form of internal conflict. In running from the fear and confusion of the past, I have entered a space that holds its own form of fear, a product of my new identity and the journey I took to get here.
Author Info:
Max E. Guttman
Max E. Guttman is the owner of Mindful Living LCSW, PLLC, a private mental health practice in Yonkers, New York.
