What is wrong with me?
I must escape these feelings.
I must be like everyone else.
What if I was like other people?
I fall further.
The breaking point. Hospitalization. Fear. Anguish. Remorse.
Resources. Education.
A budding empowered targeted group member.
Knowledge is power.
Compiling strategies, I begin to thrive.
I’m looking in the mirror and I’m surprised what’s looking back at me.
A person just like everyone else.
Of the same worth; just a different story.
I’m forced to ask, what is true social justice? Social equity.
Give me what I need just as you’d give a mentally healthy, “abled”
person what they need.
What if people were aware of what depression looks like? And didn’t
ignore the signs?
What if society gained a sense of respect for not only successes, but for
reasons people fail too?
What if people were open to discussions about boundaries necessary for
my mental safety?
What if we were all more willing to help than we are to criticize?
What if people counteracted assumptions and asked about the
experiences?
“Why? –why are you avoiding people? –why are you doing drugs?”
“What happened?”
“How are you feeling?”