I have a good friend who was diagnosed with schizophrenia before he graduated high school. It was very tragic to watch. Who was once such a bright and capable person, can no longer function in normal society. I found it very difficult to invite him places. Often times I would need to back him up in a physical fight. He wasn't violent, simply incapable of seperating reality from what he saw, often times taking the form of disturbing subjects such as women or children being raped. And being the good person he was at heart, would not let something like that go, but would rather confront it right on. At wich point the person being accused of such a heinous act would do one of two things; Realize the guy clearly has some kind of mental issue and leave the area a bit shaken but no worse for wear, or more frequent the case, challenge him to a fight, even assaulting him with deadly weapons in some cases. When he wasn't engaged in some form of direct confrontation, he would be yelling racial slurs at the tormentors in his head. And the torment was constant. I am sorry to say there was even a period in my life when I stopped being a friend and started being someone concerned with ones own social standing, wich of course in my mind, had no room for any social pariahs tagging along.

Fast forward 10 years when his mother passes away, his other family had written him off long ango, and we find our tragic hero homeless, with symptoms noticeably worse than before. being the only person he trusted, it was up to me to get him the help he needs. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I gave him a room in my house, which was the least I could do really, and even helped cosign for a car. But all of this mattered little in changing his actual situation, which still seemed to be getting worse not better. The challenge for me was balancing the line between being a friend, and being just another person trying to convince him his mental model is faulty and he needs treatment. For one reason or another he absolutely refused to go. He called that place rape factory, and insisted he'd rather be homeless then spend even a single night there. And who am I to hold the definitive truth on reality? Where I saw dysfunction, he saw a "gift of sight," only a few are capable of. In the end, I'm afraid that my unwillingness to convince him he has a problem is coming more from a position of weakness rather than strength. Had I been able to convince him to get treatment, than perhaps he wouldn't be in jail today, and I wouldn't have lost the lease to my house; ultimately leading to my own homelessness to this day.

Despite all of the headaches, I learned some valuable lessons from Ben. Mostly, don't worry so much what other's think of you. Take life as it comes without being so serious all the time. And reality is not some fixed thing, and is mostly a function of the beholder.