I Won the Lottery

And Now I’m Giving Back to Other Lottery Winners

I won the lottery! Unknowingly, received the winning numbers at birth. Thought there was something special (different) about me, but at the age of 35, the numbers came a calling. The odds of winning this lottery are pretty good, one in four.

Yes, it was the mental illness lottery—the one occurring without choice or actions on the receiver’s part. And I didn’t receive the correct numbers for twelve years (incorrectly diagnosed)—the first twelve years of my son’s life, the first 13 years of my marriage. Thankfully, with much help and assistance, we’re all still together—worn, bruised, but a family.

What, you may ask, did I do with my multiple winnings (diagnoses)? After grieving, then acceptance, it was time for searching then discovering. From faith, church and family, it continues to be ‘a hell of a journey.’ From medications to Continuing Day Treatment (CDT) and Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) and wonderful people (friends, clinicians and other lottery winners), discoveries and surprises continue to this day, some welcomed, some not.

My first discovery was finding and knowing true friends, leading to stronger relationships in an age of super-busy-ness enveloped in shallow, physical interactions and attractions.

Another discovery was that those individuals who gave and received help were the intelligent ones. But the real patients are those who don’t believe they need help. Those who believe money, budgets, and profits come before people. Those who lost sight of certain values (Judeo-Christian for this author), and are centered on the self, sex and success. Those who could have learned the basics of DBT: crisis management, distress tolerance, interpersonal effectiveness and just plain old respect. We are saner than certain business, civic and public leaders and definitely less greedy.

There is the continuous discovery of the self—new interests, desires, and limitations, which lead to a stronger, healthier, disciplined life. Then discovering that focusing on others, the less material things of the world and learning the value of the unseen (i.e., time and friendships), offers continuous rewards, wonders and miracles daily.

At times, these discoveries can be difficult, painful and aggravating. But they do not outweigh the moments of great pleasure, surprises (discovering I have a talent for poetry and prose) and contentment, which are more real than what the outside world offers on a tin platter.

So what am I going to do with my winnings? I’m trying to spread the wealth. To share what I have learned. Life is short; life is temporary; and the values of our culture are insane (maybe that’s a good topic for the next issue: how our culture makes anyone a prospective lottery winner). Now, I assist other winners, who may not have developed solid friendships, received good housing, clothing and education from their winnings.

The small, pleasant occurrences in life are those of getting the nicest smiles. Doing little things for my fellow lottery-winners are possibly forgotten, but they add up. I try to make fellow winners feel welcomed at work, try to make them smile, try to give a smile, offer a slight bit of hope and remind them that we are smarter for who we are because we recognize the need for help, get help, and the willingness to grow and change (unlike many out there who are running things and definitely not improving themselves or society).

Pullout: “Yes, it was the mental illness lottery—the one occurring without choice or actions on the receiver’s part.”