a) How many schizophrenics do you know at work, or professionally otherwise?
b) How many of the people you know at work, or professionally otherwise, are schizophrenics and didn’t bother telling you?
c) There’s a lot of us. Do the math: add up the homeless folks you presume to be us + the ones who go nutso in a spectacularly public fashion in which it’s reported that the perp was a schizzy… it’s a way low total compared to what you intuitively know about how many of us are out there, right? Did you think the rest of us were skulking about in caves or something?
d) Maybe you think we should all be “out”. OK, I’m ready if you are. Seriously: how ready are you to have an openly acknowledged schizophrenic as a coworker, neighbor, or representative in Congress?
The only humans whose psychiatric diagnosis, if relevant, gets public attention are those who do violence and wreak havoc. Nice. Do you think Hispanics would like it if the only time the media referenced someone as “Hispanic” was when they were being arrested or had killed themselves or had shot up the subway car? Muslims? Blacks? Jews? Asians?
Tell me about the last time you read about “Arnold Weissmuller, community activist, paranoid schizophrenic, CIO of Argent International, demonstrated Argent’s new wireless communications gadget…”
We are amongst you, and unnoticed as such. Whether receiving and considering ourselves to be benefitting from psychiatric treatment or totally at odds with the psychiatric profession and what we regard as its locked wards & snake oils, most of us are not ready to be perceived the way we think you’d perceive us if you knew we were Them.
And yes, there are pockets of us, collectively sharing rooms in a rented house or employing another one of Us when the opportunity presents itself and the candidate is appropriate. We even have conventions (of more than one sort: the “consumers” have theirs and us “psych patients’ lib front” types have ours).
I could be your loan officer for all you know 