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Like everything else, I have a crack in me. I think Leonard Cohen said that the cracks let the light in. I don’t know if anything about schizophrenia is light or a silver lining. I doubt it. I doubt the hallucinations, delusions, anxiety, lack of motivation, voices, psychosis in general, can be seen as positive. I would challenge the person who tried to make light of these things, but that isn’t to say that the crack in me can’t be handled with creativity, with uniqueness, with a type of resilience that makes me, not the crack, shine. Schizophrenia will never be the light, but the things I have faced, the difficulties, the obstacles, can make light of me. I am light. I shine.

Like everything else, I have a crack in me, and although my crack isn’t something I would want for others, I am stronger because of it. I am kinder because of it. I see the suffering of others and don’t turn away. I can meet suffering head-on. I can sit with those who suffer and give them space, hold their hand. I’m no savior. I can’t save anyone. The self must do all the saving. The desire to pass through, to heal, to move on.

Like everything else, I have a crack in me, but I am not the crack. I contain the crack, but it isn’t the sum or total of me. I am compassionate. I am creative. I am spiritual. There is a world inside that contains the crack but isn’t defined or made by it.

Like everything else, I have a crack in me, but I can still sing my favorite song. I can still hold hands with my husband as we walk down the street. I can always write poetry and prose. I can call a friend. I can play a video game and get excited about being one point or fifteen points ahead. I can try harder when I am behind.

Like everything else, there is a crack in me, and it’s not that it is small or insignificant. It’s not that it is hidden or that people can’t see it. It’s not that I don’t need to manage or take care of it. All of those things need to be, but it is that it is a crack, only a crack, not a break, not a missing piece, not a lost part, not smashed or completely broken, ruined of flawed.

Like everything else, there is a crack in me, but there is so much more to this container than the piece that the light can get through. I am an adventurer, a traveler, a human being complete, and full.

Like everything else, I have a crack, but it isn’t the most interesting thing about me at all. Not even close. A crack is a crack, and we all have some. Mine is just this way, and yours is another. Let’s not spend too much time there.