The Workhorse in the Matrix: A Journey Through Late-Onset Schizophrenia (LOS)

The “We Didn’t Know” Generation:

For most of my life, I was a high-functioning Gen X workhorse. A survivor navigating a difficult family system built on control, fear, and conditional love from the Silent Generation. I often felt like I was sitting on top of a maze wall, watching others struggle in the matrix below, detached and silenced.

When late-onset schizophrenia emerged at age 40, the foundations of my identity cracked. For years I unraveled alone in isolation, not knowing what was happening to me. I was always confused and completely lost my capacity to handle social situations, yet I convinced myself I was still in control.

What I Lost:

In late 2019, my world shifted dramatically. What some call a breakdown felt like a painful awakening — even a spiritual one. I walked away from a 23-year career where I had earned a strong salary, a paid-off car, zero debt, stocks, retirement, and near homeownership. Within a year, schizophrenia took a heavy toll: I burned through savings and retirement, lost stability, and found myself unraveling.

Mental health was never really spoken about in my family. I didn’t understand how the mental health system worked. I used to drive by Highlands Behavioral Center in Highlands Ranch and wonder what life was like for “crazy people.”

The Weight of Being a Burden:

The lack of understanding around mental health made everything worse. I felt like a burden no one wanted to carry. I didn’t know how to help myself, and for years I was gaslit, dismissed, or treated like a child. I had one suicide attempt and was hospitalized at least three times. My body and mind felt like a prison. There were multiple moments when I came terrifyingly close to ending my life. The isolation, social bullying, disbelief from others, and the constant feeling that I was “too much” pushed me to the edge again and again.

I’m also a mother. My son was in middle school when I became ill. He was forced to watch in confusion as the awesome supermom dwindled into someone unrecognizable.

Struggling in Behavioral Hospitals:

The medical system taught me emotional regulation tools but also added to the hardship. Multiple hospitalizations cost my family thousands of dollars. To everyone’s dismay, there is no “cure” for schizophrenia. I wasn’t going back to the old me. Everyone had to learn how to live with the new me.

Mood stabilizers and other medications brought some peace but also significant weight gain, headaches, GI irritation, sleepiness, and other issues that required even more pills. In hospitals and group settings, I saw how these treatments can feel cruel. Fattening people up, then offering expensive weight-loss options that insurance often won’t cover. This cycle contributes to why many go off their meds and face worse outcomes.

Substances and Survival:

I briefly turned to marijuana for relief during the darkest times, but I was able to move past self-medication when I channeled my energy into structured, meaningful work in law-enforcement and security roles within state agencies. While I experimented with drugs randomly in my 20s. I was never into it. When the schizophrenia kicked in during isolation, marijuana became my only toxic friend.

Many with schizophrenia are not as fortunate and struggle more deeply with addiction and related challenges.

The Workplace Social Hell:

I am blessed to be on the lucid side of the schizophrenia spectrum. I can often recognize when symptoms intensify and work myself through them with medication management and DBT/CBT skills. It is difficult and stressful, but I do it for survival. I can’t afford to lose my job. This lucidity allowed me to excel in high-pressure roles. I received consistent compliments and high performance ratings, even though I completely sucked at most social situations. I handled stressful public situations with competence and was seen as an asset. At the same time, I was an HR nightmare with multiple bullying complaints.

Workplace Bullying:

The culture in some of these environments includes a pandemic of bullying: micro-aggressions, gossip, social isolation, and even sexual harassment. Complaining often leads to being labeled the “problem” or “crazy.” Even in my current role, these dynamics persist, making it necessary to seek an external job coach through DVR and ADA accommodations to help manage the social and stress-related barriers so I can continue working effectively. I am good at my work, but schizophrenia has put me in a position where I no longer have the capacity to deal with power-hungry bullies.

I tried to be part of the solution by submitting a proposal for comprehensive training on bullying and sexual harassment to HR, a program with a positive track record that has saved many companies from legal battles. It was rejected almost immediately, with the response essentially making it sound like bullying wasn’t really a priority or that I was the only one with a problem. That dismissal hurt deeply and reinforced the gaslighting I had experienced for years.

The Punishment of Public Transportation:

The financial and practical fallout compounded everything. After losing my car to theft and draining my savings, I relied on public transportation for years. The RTD light rail and bus system felt punishing. Long waits in harsh Colorado weather, crowded spaces, security issues, and a lack of compassion for vulnerable riders, including those with mental illness. Many of us are alone with no family support, making isolation even deeper. This daily struggle is an awareness gap that policymakers need to address more fully.

The Unknown Future:

Schizophrenia has destroyed opportunities for advancement despite my documented successes as a researcher, analyst, content expert, project manager, technical writer, trainer, visionary, volunteer, advocate, mother, PTA member, garden club teacher, security officer, and more. Social barriers, being seen as “off-putting” or targeted by gossip and bullying, have blocked higher-paying roles I was otherwise qualified for.

I am denied SSI for not being “schizophrenic enough” and forced to endure problematic workplaces where advancement is nearly impossible and humiliation is guaranteed. SSI fails to acknowledge this part.

A Lucky Ending:

Today, at 47, I have a name for what I’ve been through. I met my fiancé, a loving, sad retired lawyer who loves me and is moving me to South America at the end of the year. I’m one of the lucky ones.

In Conclusion:

There are too many cracks in the mental health system. Most schizophrenic endings are not happy ones: suicide, accidental death, being harmed by police, or dying homeless on the side of the road.

That’s why I want to speak out and be a voice. I know what it’s like to go through hell, poverty, medication drama, to not be believed, to be gaslit, and to be treated like a child when you’re already fighting for your life.

Holding the Light:

In the past seven years, I have lost hope more times than I can count. Thriving in the abyss of suicide, waking up in hospital rooms, and wondering if I would ever feel whole again. Yet somehow, I have risen from the ashes again and again. I don’t know how I do it, and for me I deeply believe I was divinely guided. Each time I wanted to die, I always found myself sticking around a little longer because I just couldn’t stand how we treat people who are dealing with mental battles. And I have to keep speaking out. Now when I drive by the Behavioral Health Center in Highlands Ranch, I know exactly what goes on in that building because I’ve spent time standing in that window, staring out at the cars driving by.

These days, I simply try to hold the light. If telling my story can shine even a small beam into someone else’s darkness, if it can help one person feel seen, believed, and less alone in the maze. Then every tear, every hospitalization, and every moment of despair will have been worth it.

People struggling with mental health issues deserve safer workplaces, compassionate systems, fair benefits, and real hope. We know people with mental illness are sometimes seen as “burdens,” but we deserve to live with dignity and the salaries our talents have earned.

Thank you for reading and thank you for the work you do to end health-based discrimination and inspire hope. May the force be with you.