I had always wanted to write and believed that to write well I had to have my mind clear so that I could be creative. Before my mental illness, I was very creative. A few months after my first episode of schizophrenia and subsequent need for medication, I took a chance and slowly stopped taking my medication. At first I took half the dose for a few days, then soon I stopped taking any. But I thought I was cured of my "nervous breakdown," because I felt so well. The first few days after I stopped, my body was withdrawing from the medication, which caused me to be "wound up" and unable to sleep. However, I did write, and I think I wrote well. The sad part is that I started losing touch with reality; sadder still, I was not aware of this. This was my first experience with cresting, a word I did not know at the time. I was rehospitalized within a month of stopping my medication. If I had been fortunate enough to recognize prodromal symptoms of my illness, I may have been able to see that I needed medication and accepted that, but I was not—and still am not—aware of the prodromal symptoms of my illness, except the early sign of inability to sleep.