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Back home in Pennsylvania, I worked a variety of jobs, lived with my parents, and tried to put my brain back together, but there was to much flux in my life, and I kept trying to work when I was not yet well enough.
I traveled to California briefly, had a psychotic episode, was diagnosed schizophrenic, and put on haldol. It was to be the first of a long string of diagnoses and medications that continues today, 24 years later.
Returning to Pennsylvania, I began to spend a lot of time with other people with mental illness at two local drop-in centers; one run by a charity, and one by the clients themselves. It was about that time that I became a Christian, having heard the gospel on the radio, and having a deep, heartfelt understanding about my life.
I attended a Bible study at one of the drop-in centers, and that was a great experience: being able to learn about the Bible from people who’d also experienced mental issues as I had.
The Bible study teacher invited me to his church where he baptized me, along with others with mental illness and mental retardation. The point was not that we were different, but that we were making our faith public, but it was an encouraging and interesting way to be baptized.
(end of part two)