Robert Ross (pen name)

IT Expert and Poet: Robert Ross

View the condensed version in Newsletter Issue 22

My name is Robert, and I was born in a small town of modest means in Jackson, Michigan. My mother was a dietician at a hospital, and my father worked for the local government. I have a twin sister and an older brother, born nine years before us.

My parents struggled to make ends meet financially and my childhood home left much to be desired, both in comfort and in activities. I remember cold winters. Our house was created by a World War II veteran with stone and cement and heated by a fireplace. Naturally, it was drafty.

I remember much about my childhood. Growing up in the country, I was often isolated. My sister and I shared a room until around the age of 9 when my brother went to college. We naturally butted heads often as we both struggled for limited attention from our parents. My father was out of the home most evenings after school. He would bowl or visit friends on weekdays. My mother would often be upstairs working on projects or on long phone calls.

My earliest schizoaffective symptoms started to manifest when I was in middle school. I remember reading a book about Albert Einstein and imagining Einstein’s essence or spirit was permeating in the sky as I thought about him. My mind would often wander.

My first psychotic breakdown occurred in high school around my sophomore year, after I smoked a cigarette that may have been laced with marijuana. I kept thinking the same thoughts repeatedly. I had been bullied mildly in school, but I could not let it go, and it devastated me. I was extremely sensitive, and my emotions were inappropriate. When I should have felt happy, I felt sad. When I should have felt sad, I felt happy. As my symptoms worsened, I developed disorganized speech, and it seemed obvious to others that my words/thoughts were jumbled. My parents finally picked up on this and decided to send me to a medical professional.

My first doctor didn’t know what to make of it. I was prescribed lithium for my erratic emotions and olanzapine for my disorganized speech. At that time, my doctor believed I was bipolar with psychotic symptoms. These medications caused massive weight gain (which I would eventually work off playing on the tennis team). My psychosis continued until I was placed on aripiprazole (Abilify) and sertraline (Zoloft) which, fortunately, insurance was able to cover.

Once I was placed on Abilify and Zoloft, my grades started to improve. I went from a C student to an A student. I eventually finished high school, and though I had missed substantial class time my sophomore year, I still graduated with my senior class. I remember the meeting with teachers who stated, “he is ready for college,” as they were aware of my intention to continue my education.

I started at a community college where I was awarded a Michigan Education Assessment Program (MEAP) scholarship. I then transferred to Michigan State University (MSU) with around 50 credits. Despite this success, I felt alone and abandoned, like I was damaged. Though I channeled this academic success to further increase my self-esteem, I felt in some ways I was a fraud. I felt alone. Academics was my temporary escape.

Despite my feelings of confusion and isolation, I flourished at Michigan State. Looking back, I believe that my medications enabled me to keep my grades up. But I began to question whether I had a mental condition at all.

My junior year, I was awarded a scholarship to study abroad in Tanzania, Africa. I also had a girlfriend I met the prior semester, though we broke up upon my return to the United States.

Back from Africa, I decided to take less and less of my medication as I “felt fine.” Out of my six semesters at MSU, I only missed the dean’s list twice, including my last senior semester. I attribute the last semester issues to not taking meds appropriately, but I still ended up with a 3.8 major and a 3.5 cumulative GPA.

After college, I followed my parents to Florida, where they had moved from Michigan. However, my family began telling me something was “wrong.” Although I was entirely unaware of it, off medication, my disorganized speech had resurfaced, my emotions were inappropriate, and my behavior was erratic. My parents wanted to take me to another psychiatrist, but rather than comply, I decided to move back to Michigan.

In Michigan, I started working at a web host IT company. I worked there for around a year before I realized my symptoms were returning, worse than ever before. I returned to live with my parents in Florida, where I was hospitalized. I was unable to explain the situation to my employer.

In Florida, I was placed on all kinds of medicine until my parents contacted my old childhood, board-certified doctor in Michigan. Then I was placed on Abilify and Zoloft again. My diagnosis was now schizoaffective disorder. After realizing I had a lifelong condition, I have taken my medicine faithfully for over a decade.

Currently, I work in IT for a global industry leader in digital signage. I have a great group of friends who understand my condition, and I have hobbies that I enjoy in my free time. I play pickleball, tennis, and the trading card game Magic: The Gathering. I am under the impression that people have little idea I even have a condition. I write poetry and dystopian science fiction, and I hope to one day be a source of inspiration for others with similar conditions.

I believe with proper and consistent treatment many people can recover the life they had prior to their diagnosis.

My parents have been helpful in my recovery and though part of any illness is nature and nurture, I hold no ill will. People often do as much as they can when they can.