Surviving the System Itinerary:
The World Within, The World Without…
There is a quiet dignity in the way one survives. A determination masked by the many labels and diagnoses that are both burden and explanation. To live at the intersection of schizoaffective disorder, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, and Anxiety is to live in a symphony of contradictions. It is a world where the mind is both a safe haven and a battlefield. At 33 years old, you might feel as though you are carrying the weight of an invisible war that no one sees, no one but yourself. Yet, within this struggle, there exists a profound resilience, a spark of life that refuses to be put out.
Society often asks the wrong questions like, “why aren’t you more productive?” Why can’t you just be normal?” But these questions are cages, their bars forged from misunderstanding. The right questions; the ones that set us free are those that seek to understand rather than judge; like “what do you need to feel whole? How can I make this world gentler for you?”
To live on SSI disability is to know the cost of survival in a system that sees you as a ledger entry rather than a soul. It is the math of medication against groceries, the impossible calculus of therapy weighed against the rent. And yet, you persist. You learn the art of stretching, not just dollars, but moments of peace, glimmers of joy. The resilience it takes to keep going is not something society celebrates, but it should. It is a quiet revolution to keep choosing life when life often seems indifferent.
The world you inhabit demands creativity, the kind that turns coping into an art form. When the walls close in, you learn to find solace in a song, a sketch, a whispered prayer. You find rhythm in your routines, even when the world outside calls them rituals. You discover that your worth is not tied to what you can produce, but to the fact that you exist, that you love, that you try.
For those who seek to be supportive, know this; compassion is not an act of pity, but a bridge. Ask us how we are, and really mean it. Be patient when our words come slower or when our emotions feel too big for the moment. Educate yourself, not to be a savior, but to be an ally. Offer help not as charity but as solidarity, for our struggles, though unique, are part of the human condition.
Understand that a healthy life is not a luxury; it is a human right. To thrive, we need more than just a survival, but we need stability. We need access to care that heals rather than just bandages. We need housing that feels like home, not a temporary shelter. We need to feel safe, not just from the world, but sometimes from our own minds.
But most of all, we need to be seen and not as a list of diagnoses but as people, vibrant and whole in our complexity. To those who live this reality; you are not broken. You are a mosaic of strength and vulnerability, every crack and shard telling a story of survival. The world may not always make space for you, but your existence is proof that the world must expand.
Hope, like resilience, is a quiet thing. It is found in the small victories; a good day, a kind word, a moment of clarity. It grows when nurtured by connection, by love, by a belief that the world can and must be better. And so, let this be a friendly reminder: that you are not alone in this. Your life, in all its complexity, is a testimony to the beauty of endurance, to the power of hope.
To live with grace amongst such challenges is to teach the rest of us what it means to be truly human. And for those willing to listen, your life is the most profound lesson of all…
signing out,
abirdthatswims.
