Sunday, September 17, 2000
I am not ashamed that I have schizophrenia. I don’t feel I brought it upon myself in any way. I don’t feel it is a punishment or the result of a judgment of my actions, worth, or character by any human or supernatural agent. Despite this, I do indeed feel ashamed.
I feel ashamed that I have not been able to overcome this illness through effort or ability. In fact, I feel that if I ever possessed such ability I have surely squandered it through sloth, and for this, I also am ashamed. If I had worked harder and more diligently in college, I would have been able to take a much heavier load of courses and complete them with good grades. I also would not have dropped so many courses.
As a result of not overcoming my schizophrenia, I did not complete a proper course of study at a college I could feel proud to attend. This also contributes to my shame.
I do not work and, therefore, do not earn wages or a salary. In order to survive and avoid homelessness, I have turned to welfare agencies. This is embarrassing. I am poor and live in housing and a community I would never gladly choose to live in. I believe many people know this and gossip about it, which is also embarrassing. I regularly pay for groceries with food stamps, which are very stigmatizing.
My clothing is very ugly and shabby. It is also ill fitting. I am ashamed to be seen in it, as I am almost every day.
Partly due to the medications I take, but also very much due to my being too lazy to exercise, my body is obese and ugly. I am ashamed to be seen in public. [I was not really obese when this was written.]
I am ashamed to be so stupid and yet to cling to the belief that I am not stupid. People laugh at me for thinking I am smart when I am so dumb.
I am ashamed to be a social misfit and a loser. I have no friends, as has usually been the case all of my life. I talk only to my 89 year old grandmother and mother. I am pitiful...
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