The Façade Soon after my husband Joe was diagnosed with schizophrenia, years after his delusions had grown worse and more frequent, I slogged through sleepless nights of tear-soaked pillows, sinking into a deep depression.
When I confided my distress to friends at work and church, people often told me to “look at the bright side of things,” “count your blessings,” and “stay positive.” I told myself it could be worse.
At least Joe wasn’t violent, addicted to drugs, an alcoholic, or self-destructive. I shouldn’t complain. I tried to be brave and keep a positive outlook on life as I mothered our children while wading through Joe’s delusions. Abundant Blessings with Guilt à la Mode I was grateful — for many things.
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