In today's deliverable economy, productivity isn’t just a KPI.
It’s a yardstick for human value.
You show up. You ship. You survive.
But what happens when you live with a mind that sometimes refuses to cooperate?
As a paranoid schizophrenic, I’ve spent the better part of two decades navigating a gig economy that rarely makes space for neurodivergence.
I’ve lived the shame spiral:
A vicious loop of unmet deadlines, self-loathing, temporary wins, and devastating relapses.
This piece is not just a testimony.
It’s a mirror for anyone who's ever asked, Am I still worthy when I can't deliver?
⚖️ Early Dreams & a Career Derailed by Mental Illness
In late 2005, I had just begun my journey as a Computer Science student, full of ambition and the naïve confidence of someone who believes the future is predictable.
Then came the diagnosis: paranoid schizophrenia.
Everything changed.
I was forced to withdraw from college, abandon my dreams of becoming a data scientist, web developer, or software engineer, and face the cruel truth: the world wasn't built to accommodate someone like me.
Watching former classmates thrive while I spiraled felt like a cosmic joke.
🕳️ False Starts & Setbacks in the Gig Economy
In the years that followed, I tried everything.
Housekeeping jobs at local beach resorts through my mother’s influence.
Grocery delivery jobs, working for my mother’s “Mama Mboga” business.
Short-term training courses in web design and programming.
I even moved to rural Njoro for a spell, hoping to enroll at Egerton University.
Nothing stuck.
Every attempt to stand up was met with another fall.
A nervous breakdown here.
A relapse there.
Time and again, I had to retreat back into the care of my mother, back into the shame of feeling like a failed adult.
💼 Finding Freelance Writing & Digital Work Online
In 2011, out of sheer desperation, I asked my mother to buy me a secondhand PC.
I immersed myself in tutorials. Java, Visual Basic,HTML, CSS,JavaScript, PHP, anything to keep my mind occupied.
Then I saw a job ad: "Looking for freelance writers. Must be fluent in English."
Veritable Writers gave me my first break.
Other Kenyan agencies came next.
Then came my first international client, Margo White of Birk Digital Group.
After that?
iWorker, Cutco/Vector, Strategic eMarketing, Sonicu, Rizhoma, RevOps Co-Op, Botanical Chemist, and many more.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it was mine.
I had finally built something.
Until it all came crashing down again.
📉 The Emotional Economics of Freelancing with Mental Illness
Every gig was a gamble.
Every success, a temporary reprieve.
When my mind worked, I thrived.
When it didn’t, I disappeared.
Clients vanished. Rent piled up.
And shame followed like clockwork.
There is no safety net for people like me.
Only cycles. Hired. Fired.
Applauded. Forgotten.
The freelancing world rewards consistency, hustle, and speed.
But what if your brain only operates in waves?
What if your reality is not "always on" but "sometimes barely functional?
👶🏾 Fatherhood, Hope & the Will to Rebuild
Then came Haidee in 2024.
My daughter became the lighthouse in my storm.
When everything else felt meaningless, she gave me purpose.
Her presence reminded me that I was still needed.
Still wanted. Still capable of giving love.
Today, I’m working harder than ever to rebuild: not just my career, but my self.
I’m no longer just a copywriter or digital marketer.
I’m an aspiring author, crafting my debut historical fiction novel: Echoes of Valor, the first instalment of the Mekatilili Trilogy.
Writing, for me, is no longer just about survival.
It’s about legacy.
✅ Lessons & Coping Strategies for Neurodivergent Freelancers
- You are not your deliverables.
- Build your systems around your rhythm, not someone else's calendar.
- Ask for help. Even if it embarrasses you.
- There is no shame in starting over. Again. And again.
- Your story matters. Your mind matters. You matter.
🌟 Conclusion: Turning Pain into Purpose
This isn’t the happy ending.
It’s the hopeful middle.
Freelancing gave me a fighting chance, but it also demanded a resilience I didn’t know I had.
I’ve lost more gigs than I can count.
But I’ve also built a portfolio of more than 100 articles, ghostwritten for top brands, and held my daughter close when she needed comfort.
The shame spiral doesn’t go away.
But it can be interrupted.
With compassion.
With community.
With truth.
To everyone out there navigating mental illness in a hustle-first economy:
You're are not alone.
Your worth is not up for performance review.
You are enough.
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