In a world that often celebrates solo success and individual achievement, it’s easy to overlook one of the most powerful human needs: the desire to belong. To be a valued member of a high-performing team. Not necessarily the leader or the star, but someone respected for their contributions, working alongside others toward a shared goal.

After 18 years of searching—through a decade-long psychotic breakdown, career attempts, and years of effort in the retriever sports community—I finally found my place. This is my story of delusion, determination, and discovery, and what it taught me about the importance of being part of something bigger than myself.

The Long Road: Psychosis, Delusions, and the Search for the “A Team”

From 2008 to 2018, I lived with a major psychotic breakdown tied to my schizoaffective disorder. During those years, I held powerful delusions that I was already a valued member of elite teams—like “Team Facebook” or circles of high-profile people. In my mind, I belonged at the top level. Reality, of course, was very different.

When I began recovering and returning to the workforce, I carried that same drive. I took jobs not just for a paycheck, but to find a high-performing team. I’m smart, I work harder than most, and when my performance has been tracked, I’ve often posted the best numbers in the company. I didn’t aspire to be the chief or the boss. I just wanted to be a well-respected team member on the A squad—someone who contributes meaningfully and belongs.

Yet time after time, that deep sense of belonging eluded me. The teams were good, but something was missing. I kept searching.

Five Years in Retriever Sports: From Volunteer to Valued Contributor

Determined to find my fit, I turned to the world of retriever sports—a community built around working dogs, competition, training, and camaraderie. For the first few years, money was tight. I couldn’t afford to run with the top players, so I started volunteering. I showed up, worked hard, and contributed wherever needed.

Still, I didn’t feel truly valued as a core team member. It was frustrating. I had skills and dedication, but the “A team” door remained closed.

Then I shifted my approach. Instead of just volunteering at events, I focused on creating value upstream. I began socializing and starting puppies—raising young retrievers into solid prospects with strong foundations in obedience, focus, and drive. These dogs became competitive prospects and reliable partners. My contributions started making a real difference for the broader community.

Suddenly, everything changed. People noticed. My work was appreciated. The team I became part of is supportive, high-performing, and genuinely welcoming. After five years of effort in retriever sports—and 18 years overall since my breakdown—I finally found where I fit.

Why Belonging to Something Bigger Matters

This journey taught me profound lessons about mental health, purpose, and human connection:

• Isolation fuels symptoms — When I was lost in delusions or struggling alone, my schizoaffective disorder and anxiety felt overwhelming. Being part of a team grounds me. It gives structure, accountability, and shared wins that medication and therapy alone can’t fully provide. (I’ve written before about how honest conversations and routines help stabilize life—check out my post on opening the door to mental health talks.)

• Contribution builds worth — You don’t have to be the fastest, smartest, or richest to belong. Consistent, reliable value—like socializing puppies or hitting top performance metrics—earns respect. I didn’t need to lead the pack; I needed to pull my weight on a strong one.

• High-performing teams lift everyone — A supportive group amplifies your strengths and buffers your struggles. In retriever sports, the team celebrates solid prospects and shares knowledge. That collective energy is healing.

• It gets better with time and persistence — Stability improves as you age and stay committed to treatment. What felt impossible in 2008–2018 is now part of a stable, meaningful life.

I’ve also found that physical outlets, like intense training and labor, help manage the energy of mania and keep me steady—another tool that complements the sense of belonging.

You Can Find Your Place Too

If you’re searching for where you fit—whether you’re living with mental health challenges, recovering from a breakdown, or simply feeling adrift—know this: it often takes longer than you expect, and the path includes setbacks. But persistence pays off. Keep showing up, keep creating value, and stay open to unexpected communities.

For me, retriever sports and the dogs (including my own anxiety service dog Shelby) became the bridge to something bigger.

Wherever your “A team” is—whether in sports, work, volunteering, faith, or a hobby—keep looking. The belonging you crave is worth the search. It reminds you that you’re not alone, your efforts matter, and life feels richest when you’re part of something larger than yourself.

God never gives us more than we can handle. Keep going, stay positive, and remember: your place is out there.

— Karl Lausman

If this resonates, share your own story in the comments. And if you’re navigating schizoaffective disorder or anxiety, explore more of my journey here on the blog.