What happens when life keeps moving, but your mind needs time to heal? Today, Sarah Merritt Ryan shares her journey of mental health recovery after psychosis – navigating stigma, rebuilding her life, and learning to move forward while still healing. Determined to return to work, manage her treatment, and find “The One,” Sarah’s story reminds us that healing doesn’t need perfection – only the courage to begin again.
Time doesn’t stop when you have a psychotic break – when you’re allowed to fully recover first, and only then face the daily demands of living and what’s expected of us. That pause never comes. Life did not wait for me to recover.
After my third psychotic break, I had to immediately "choose life" and keep going, even though there was no guarantee of what the rest of my life would look like. I made pivotal decisions, while cognitively impaired, about whether to apply for disability, move in with my parents, take medication, and ultimately, whether to try and fail or just give up. My dreams were to work again, get married, and become a mother – however unlikely.
These dreams eventually materialized for me, but I had no time to wait and heal before pursuing them. I had to start from where I was – not fully recovered, but taking the initial steps necessary to achieve my goals.
The truth is, I wasn't completely healed when I started working again. I wasn't entirely healed when I met and started dating my future husband, either.
I went from being in a PhD program at a top university to not being sure if I would ever work again. Then an opportunity came up through an acquaintance of mine to be a temporary employee of the state government. The job had nothing to do with my field of work and belonged to someone else on medical bereavement. They'd been away for a long time, but could call to reclaim their job any day, and it would be theirs.
These weren't the ideal working terms. I wasn't fully cognitively or emotionally recovered. I was experiencing medication side effects like tardive dyskinesia and oculogyric crises in front of other people. But the job got me dressed in the morning and out of the house, where I could take some pride in making money, even if it only lasted two weeks.
I wasn't completely healed when I started working again. I wasn't entirely healed when I met and started dating my future husband, either.
I worried that if this person came back too soon, I wouldn't be able to add the position to my resume –but I decided the job was a symbolic step forward, nevertheless.
It turned out to be the perfect situation. I worked there for a year and seven months and continued to heal as I worked there. As my mind kept healing, others began to notice, and I went from simple clerical tasks to taking on the work of a junior attorney. I received a promotion, too.
I applied for permanent positions nonstop while in this job, as I could lose it any day. I ended up landing a permanent, salaried career position elsewhere, while doing a lot of personal healing in this less-demanding clerical role in a safe work environment.
I wasn't totally healed yet when I decided to try online dating, and I assumed my diagnosis would deter most men. However, at age 34, life and my biological clock weren’t waiting for me to heal. I went ahead and tried. I almost gave up after a couple of bad online matches, but then I vowed to try one last match before giving up online dating forever. This last match was, in fact, my future husband. I was still healing while we were dating, and it was the ultimate act of vulnerability on my part. We’re the same age, and we got married at 38.
Recovery is a humbling process. You have to put all your imperfections out there for others to judge or scrutinize, but it's part of moving forward when life is short. I still wasn’t walking the same when I started that first job after my recovery, and my mind was still muddled by recurring thoughts from my last break, but I started the job anyway. I did my best not to let medication side effects, like weight gain, tardive dyskinesia, and oculogyric crises, hurt my self-esteem and cause me to worry about what others think of me.
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The Day I Noticed My Tardive Dyskinesia Symptoms for the First Time
My eyes weren't the same after my breaks, and I was worried that this boyfriend, who could be The One, would notice. I was also dealing with PTSD from my breaks, body image issues from weight gain, learning to like myself again, and learning to trust and believe in myself again – all while still coming to terms with the stigma of my illness.
I was processing my illness and trying not to judge myself, all while hoping my boyfriend wouldn’t leave me once he found out everything. I was in a big race with time to get over my own stigma, so I was in the frame of mind to disclose my illness and diagnosis to my future husband.
I wrestled with allowing myself to fall for my boyfriend, knowing that if he rejected me for knowing the truth about my illness, it would just destroy me more.
You have to keep living your life, even if you aren't completely 100%. It's easy to feel like you're the only one out there figuring it out as you go, especially when you're going through something that not many people talk about.
However, that’s not the case. We're definitely not the only ones out there winging it until life makes sense again. So many people have to start over in life for a multitude of reasons. I think the reason our situation is different is because of the stigma, shame, and secrecy.
You might be surprised how many people could see your story as a come-from-behind, underdog story, the kind of story people rally around. I had a hard time believing it myself, until 13 years after my last break, I came out to social media, which means all my former employers, coworkers, relationships, fellow moms, and friends found out.
Recovery is a humbling process. You have to put all your imperfections out there for others to judge or scrutinize, but it’s part of moving forward.
It was heartwarming to realize that people don't merely accept you for what you went through—they can see you as a survivor and cheer for you. Even if other people don't necessarily understand mental illness, I've been pleasantly surprised by how many people I know still relate to facing setbacks, suffering, and starting over.
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Reflect, Recover, Rebuild: Navigating Relationships after Experiencing Psychosis
There's also no way to determine when you’re 100%, as we’re all a work in progress. I don't necessarily believe in a point in life where a person fully "arrives." I don't think we ever reach a moment where we have everything figured out, either. Even with something as stigmatized and secret as having a psychotic break, you have to show kindness and compassion for yourself. You’re a work in progress – just like anyone else.
I will never have my illness completely figured out or fully understand how everything happened. Still, I remain in the present and keep my eyes on the future, never giving up on what I want my future to be.
The information presented is solely for educational purposes, not as specific advice for the evaluation, management, or treatment of any condition.
The individual(s) who have written and created the content and whose images appear in this article have been paid by Teva Pharmaceuticals for their contributions. This content represents the opinions of the contributor and does not necessarily reflect those of Teva Pharmaceuticals. Similarly, Teva Pharmaceuticals does not review, control, influence, or endorse any content related to the contributor's websites or social media networks. This content is intended for informational and educational purposes and should not be considered medical advice or recommendations. Consult a qualified medical professional for diagnosis and before beginning or changing any treatment regimen.
NPS-ALL-NP-01617 SEPTEMBER 2025