You’ve been struggling for weeks or months with your mental health now. It could be a pervasive sense of emptiness and low moods that permeate your being. It could be a sense of fear that’s been gnawing at you for months, making you feel agitated easily. It could be a full-fledged, out of the world psychotic episode that leaves you feeling broken.

Whatever your experience, you somehow found yourself in a consultation room with a psychiatrist, who just told you that you have <insert mental health diagnosis>.

Before I proceed, I want to tell you that it is a good effort to seek professional help. It must’ve been really difficult for you. You have just taken the first step in your journey of recovery.

When I was diagnosed with brief psychotic disorder in 2013, I only told others about it on a need-to-know basis. I shuddered at the idea of talking about my experience with psychosis. I didn’t want to be treated differently just because I had a mental breakdown.

Then my case manager and psychiatrist gently nudged me to talk to a peer support specialist. From that conversation, I realised that talking about my episode with someone who has been through a similar experience was helpful. Without trying too hard, she could relate to my feelings about my episode with great empathy. In hindsight, I see that the space she held for me was only possible with a peer who has had a mental breakdown and has sufficiently worked through her experience. The work she put into her recovery was a source of inspiration for me. That she was still alive and working on her recovery was enough for me to take courage to chart my own course in the unknown waters of life after psychosis.

Of course, my recovery journey was more than popping some pills and talking to someone with lived experience of psychosis. Learning how to communicate my experience with psychosis was a key skill that helped me even today to maintain my well-being. Because learning to talk about my struggles helped my medical team and my loved ones know how they can support me when I am struggling. It takes a village to help someone living with mental illness to recover—and thrive.

I am lucky to learn early on that recovery from a serious mental illness cannot be built around a vacuum. Many people, especially loved ones with good intentions, have the idea that we are too fragile to handle stress, that we should basically retire from life and its challenges. Yes, perhaps a season of weeks or months, we need to slow down and recuperate. But it does not mean that we need to live insulated from the stressors and challenges of life henceforth. The trick is to learn your unique rhythm of work and rest, then the music of your life follows.

To be occupied but not too busy was a mantra I held on during my 8-month break from my first episode of psychosis. I took time to do things I have always wanted to do, but never prioritised. I spent time connecting and reconnecting with my family and friends. It was only in hindsight that I recognised how lucky I am. Some of the memories I made during that period with my loved ones are among the most treasured moments today.

If you just learnt from your psychiatrist that you have a mental illness, the road ahead of you is gonna be tough. Stigma is real, the struggles with the symptoms of your illness are real. Recovery and recovering some semblance of life is real too. You may not have a choice on the onset of your condition, but you have a choice on how you want to respond to your challenge. Choose well.