“Let yourself be charmed by an Italian” boasts the advertisement with Isabella Rossellini’s face promoting goods from Italy. Indeed, I’m charmed when I attend the Italian American Writers Association’s poetry reading on the second Saturday of the month at the Cornelia Street Café. Here, everyone comes together to share our culture. We welcome and embrace people of all ethnicities at the open mic. For eight years I’ve been attending and performing at this event, reading mostly from my memoir and the occasional poem or essay.

The sense of community I find on these nights can’t be beat. After the reading, we dip into No. 28—the restaurant at 28 Carmine Street—for authentic Neapolitan pizza. Among other creative folk, I find encouragement and support in this nurturing environment. This is what saved me: By using my writing talents, I recovered from schizophrenia. I urge you to consider getting involved in a creative endeavor, like poetry or blogging. Maybe photography’s your thing, or singing, or sculpture. When you’re actively engaged in something that gives you joy, your good humor will rub off on others, and hopefully, they’ll see you as a human being, not a monster.

It’s the sure-fire way I know to distract myself from the symptoms. Now, more than a year since the psychiatrist switched me to an atypical medication, I still have subtle worries and do my best to accept them and move on. I’ve decided not to beat on myself when the thoughts swirl around in my head, crashing a party I didn’t invite them to. My therapist has guided me through: He suggested that I have some control over the symptoms, not total control. Yet I’m responsible for how I respond.

Being creative in how I deal with what goes on has been like an umbrella on rainy days. The number one skill has been to reach out to others—and be in the world—when I’d rather shut off. The other day, waiting on the platform for a train, I saw a woman reading a magazine at the edge. I could do that to deflect from what goes on in my head, and not feed the worry that grips me when I take public transportation. Arriving solo to the theater one night, I took out a literary journal and skimmed through it until the curtain rose.

Indeed, perhaps utilizing “right brain” traits allows us to heal. Whereas the left brain governs functions that are logical, rational, and objective, the right brain controls activities that are intuitive, subjective, and holistic. Imagine this: We can compensate for the symptoms by using our right brain. I know that I’m happiest when I’m doing my writing or performing and working at my day job as a public service librarian—all outlets for self-expression.

Also, the ability to multi-task has been of great benefit to me. On the bus or train, I’ll listen to my iPod and read a magazine, not caring how it looks. After worrying so long about what other people think of me, I refuse to let them determine how I feel about myself. This is my recovery, and I’ll do what it takes to stay healthy.

God gives each of us talents, and it’s our duty to use them wisely and for the benefit of the world. He has given me the gift of language, and I hope my words comfort and inspire others.

Living with schizophrenia isn’t easy, but I soldier on because what choice do I have? The alternative is no option. If I can turn my pain into a thing of beauty for others who also suffer, I will have done my job.