We are the story we tell ourselves of who we are.
A moderately gifted student of science at the age of 18 starts degenerating, its quickly clear to him that something is wrong with his brain. An answer is clear by age 19.
Schizophrenia.
Degeneration continues, his life is no longer a life. Being a mechanically minded person he knows to solution can only be pharmacology. A mechanical solution to a fundamentally malfunctioning brain.
He knows he cant think his way out of this, he already tried that.
He learns all he can about this disease, case studies, standard treatment protocols, experimental treatments everything he could. What remains of his diminished will for all things in life is completely directed to this problem.
He starts anti psychotics they finally give relief to his loud and noisy mind but still no life, still no ability to study.
Every week he tries a new compound(drug/supplement) sometimes 2 a week.
He has no idea what he's doing.
This continues for 10 years. 1-2 trials every week. Totaling 500-1000 different permutations of doses of anything and everything anyone has even remotely(in the literature) suggested could fix him. At times there's no method to it, its a matter of throwing things against the wall. Some things end up sticking.
A few years in he finishes his undergrad. many years too late.
Progress stalls, many of the low hanging fruit have been picked. He discovers that several drugs in clinical trials look promising. He cannot wait for approval to gain access. He manages to acquire them.
The process resumes, there's progress again. Ultimately he still doesn't know what he's doing but certainly more than he did at the beginning. By now he's regained a lot of function. A completed masters degree is within reach. But the work continues.
But fundamentally he knows he's really always crazy.