My son Ben spent his Saturday afternoon playing basketball with 3 friends. If you, too, have a child or other relative living with mental illness, you know that this is a small miracle - or maybe not so small. Ben's social brain function has been among the victims of his schizophrenia. But it's possible that it can come back - and, in some ways, it has begun to.

After mental illness strikes a family, can a family get happiness back? Can they bond again? These are worrisome concerns because, after all, having a loved one with a serious mental illness like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder can put a lot of stress on family members and change family dynamics.

My son Ben, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia at age 20 after five years of confusing onset symptoms, has often seemed "frozen in time" in this phase of recovery; emotionally and cognitively stuck at the age he had been when the symptoms began during high school. Despite three relapses during this near decade of stabilization (all due to instances of refusing meds),  Ben has been in recovery most of those years and has progressed in many ways, as I wrote in an earlier post, Mental Illness Frozen in Time Can Thaw. But, until recently, Ben had few friends and I wondered if he would ever get that particular joy back in his life, or when he might reach the stage of self-acceptance that is crucial to healthy friendships. Would he ever again regain what he had before schizophrenia set in; the simple joy of having people with whom he could share a meal, see a movie, laugh and talk, or just hang out?

Ben has a friend. A real friend.  They actually socialize. Last night, "the boys" were up until 2 am playing a video game, and I am about to drive them both to school so they can take their finals. They studied. They care about their grades. They talk about life, philosophy, favorite foods and TV shows, and just plain old everyday stuff.

I take no credit for the title of this post. It comes from my son Ben, who is many ways wonderful. I hesitate to define him here with the label "diagnosed with schizophrenia" -but of course that's why I write this blog, and why I wrote my book, Ben Behind His Voices. It's the piece of him that makes his current insights so remarkable. Recently Ben and I were talking about how much better his attitude has been - and I asked him why he thinks he is getting so much closer to his goals these days.  He, who used to tell me all rules were stupid and possible "government plots", now cares deeply about punctuality, grades, and doing a good job. Ben's answer astounds me with its depth. He said: "Well, now I'm living my life, not fighting my life."

Try an experiment: Of the four pictures below, which do you think is representative of someone with mental illness? There can be more than one answer, but don't overthink this: just follow your gut instinct.

My son, Ben, who lives with paranoid schizophrenia, is in the process of rebuilding his life. After years of feeling buried under symptoms, distracted by hospitalizations, rejected from opportunities, and feeling left behind by friends whose lives had followed more predictable paths unfettered by mental illness, he is also (dare I say it? Yes!) reclaiming his future. So far, so good. Living with Mental Illness. Steps toward Recovering Life. Reclaiming his future. How delicious. How marvelously hopeful. And it's a phrase I heard echoed this week at a breakfast briefing of the International Center for Clubhouse Development (ICCD) in New York City. I love this phrase, because it's not only full of hope, it is full of truth - for those who manage to find their way to a Clubhouse, embrace its community, and take advantage of its opportunities.

Is living independently the right goal for everyone? Whether or not you live with mental illness, I think the answer is: no. For some? Sure.  For others? Disaster - or at least not the ultimate goal. Dangers of Sudden Independence One year ago my son Ben "graduated" rather suddenly - too suddenly - from his place in a group home with 24-hour supervision to his very own apartment.  Within one month, we needed police intervention to remove him from that same apartment, where he had isolated himself in confusion and fear after missing his meds for a couple of days - and most likely cheeking them whenever he wasn't closely watched before that. Why? Certainly the rug was pulled out from under him way too fast - whoosh! You now are expected to function without structure, community, or purpose. Good luck with that - but also, for Ben (who is a very social person, even with his schizophrenia), he was, well, lonely.

Answer: a lot. At least, given the opportunity, respect and resources, we can learn. So can anyone who loves someone with a mental illness. Last week I had what I thought was a terrific idea: why not get a parent's perspective on the recent tragedy in Aurora, the public perception of schizophrenia, and the value of treatment for mental illness?  After all, family members live the experience of seeing a loved one's decline into mental illness, and (if we are informed, supported, and -let's face it - a little bit lucky) the benefits of proper treatment. Schizophrenia expert? Not just an M.D.

Last night we finally sat down to watch the first episode of Perception,a new television series on TNT starring Eric McCormack as Dr. Daniel Pierce, a professor of neuroscience with a brilliant mind – and schizophrenia. Because of this mental illness, he sees things in a different light, evidently extremely useful for solving crimes. How I could wish that my son Ben's hallucinations were so helpful. But this is reality. Perception vs. Reality I tried to watch the pilot episode with as open a mind as possible. After all it is just a TV show, and it is nice to see someone with schizophrenia be the hero for a change.  Still, I wonder about misconceptions being perceived as reality by those who know woefully little about schizophrenia as it is - including Ben himself.