“You are the only exception . . .”
Every time I hear these lyrics by the rock band Paramore, I think of Xan, a patient I met a few years back while working as residential advisor at a mental health rehabilitation facility. There, we served patients diagnosed with treatment-resistant mental illness—people who had tried every pill and every therapy and had still been hospitalized again and again. Our program was a sort of last-ditch effort to get people back on their meds, back in their community, back to living lives that they found meaningful.
From the moment Xan enrolled in our program, I was captivated by their energy. They were constantly engaged and curious, even though they had probably been through the same therapy curriculum a hundred times already. They made friends everywhere they went: hosting movie nights, dancing, making music.
I had a hard time understanding their trajectory. Xan was a first-generation college student; they had worked really hard to get into a prestigious school, winning a generous academic scholarship. Yet just as they seemed to be flying high, they crashed down hard into an emergency department, then to inpatient treatment, then on academic leave, and now here. They were my only Black patient in a very white facility, and every day there were always a couple of people who would call them by the wrong pronouns. Yet despite the odds, Xan’s heart was always full of faith and their eyes always sparkled with hope.
One weekend, we decided to host a talent show, and Xan performed their favorite song, “Only Exception.” The lyrics tell the story of a woman who grew up in a family where love was not worth the risk, but one time she made an exception and allowed herself to hope for the impossible.
I have never seen a clearer picture of bravery than Xan standing on our makeshift stage singing, “You are the only exception, and I’m on my way to believing . . .” Believing that regardless of generational patterns, regardless of past relapses, regardless of what other people said or didn’t say, that they would get better, that they could still hold onto hope. Bravery was the willingness to believe that despite all the failures and disappointments of the past, today, and maybe even tomorrow, could be an exception.
Lisa Gong
St. Louis, Missouri