Karl's Blog

Hi, I’m Karl. I live with schizoaffective disorder and anxiety, and for most of my adult life those labels felt like a life sentence I was never going to escape. I’m not here to sell you a miracle cure, a “mindset hack,” or a get-rich-quick scheme. I’m not promising that if you copy what I did, you’ll beat the stock market or suddenly feel cured. Everyone’s brain chemistry, circumstances, and support systems are different. What I can share is my own messy, imperfect path—one that started in the middle of a full-blown psychotic relapse and somehow led me to a place where I’m finally living my passion: helping others who are suffering the way I did.

The Year Everything Broke Open (2008)

In 2008 my psychosis came roaring back. For months I was convinced that billionaires were secretly pulling me into their businesses. I believed I was contributing something so valuable that they were going to pay me hundreds of millions of dollars. The delusion was vivid, constant, and completely convincing. At the same time I had this terrifying moment of clarity: I have no idea how to manage that kind of money.

So I did the only thing that felt logical in my scrambled state—I started reading everything I could find from the biggest names in business. Blogs, biographies, investment books—you name it. I read like my life depended on it, because in my mind it literally did. I thought the authors were reading my mind in real time and grooming me to become some kind of executive. This intense obsession lasted a full decade. It was exhausting, exhilarating, and, looking back, completely delusional. But it was also the only thing that gave me structure when everything else felt like it was collapsing.

The Slow Climb Back

Recovery didn’t happen overnight. It was gradual, uneven, and required a lot of professional help, medication adjustments, therapy, and plain old time. Eventually the delusions loosened their grip. I was able to hold down a regular job—the first steady paycheck I’d had in years. For the first time in my life I started saving real money. Then I started investing it.

I didn’t have a fancy financial advisor or inside information. I just kept doing what I’d been doing for that decade: studying, learning, and applying what made sense to me. And here’s the part that still feels surreal: for the last six years I have beaten the S&P 500. Not once or twice—six years in a row. Statistically, that’s supposed to be nearly impossible for an individual investor. I’m not bragging; I’m still pinching myself. More than anything, it’s proof to me that the same brain that once spun wild billionaire fantasies could also learn to function in the real world.

Turning Pain into Passion

Even during my worst episodes, one thing never changed: I wanted to help other people living with schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder. From the very first time symptoms hit me, I’d ask my therapists, “Is there any way I can volunteer? Speak? Support groups? Anything?” Most of the time I was politely shut down or told it wasn’t realistic right now.

I get it. When you’re in the thick of it, the system is focused on stabilization, not advocacy. But the desire never left me. Now, years later, I’m finally doing it. I’m sharing my stories openly—not because I have all the answers, but because I know how isolating this illness can feel. If reading about a guy who once believed he was secretly running with billionaires and is now quietly beating the market gives even one person a little hope or a little less shame, then it’s worth it.

What I’ve Learned (and What I Haven’t)

I’ve learned that purpose can be a powerful anchor when your mind is trying to drag you under. For me, that purpose started as a delusion and slowly turned into a real skill set and eventually into real stability. I’ve learned that small, consistent actions—reading, saving, showing up—can compound in ways that feel miraculous even when you’re not “cured.”

But I’ve also learned (the hard way) that no amount of investing success erases the need for ongoing treatment, support, and honesty about my limits. There are still bad days. Anxiety still shows up uninvited. I still have to manage my symptoms every single day.

If you’re reading this and you’re in the middle of your own storm—whether it’s psychosis, depression, anxiety, or all of the above—please know this: your path won’t look like mine. That’s okay. The only thing that matters is that it’s yours. Keep going. Keep asking for help. Keep looking for the tiny thread of meaning you can hold onto, even if it feels ridiculous at first.

I’m not special. I’m just one more person who refused to let this disorder have the final word. And if I can turn my biggest delusion into something that helps even a handful of people, then every scary year was worth it.

Thanks for reading my story. If you’re living with schizoaffective disorder, schizophrenia, or severe anxiety, I see you. You’re not alone, and your story still has chapters left to write.

— Karl