D R I P drop Let it all fall out. I cry the tears for a thousand yesterdays. I weep for Moments Left Bleak W O R D S still unsaid Life --relinquished to the past-- yet never actually Lived. I’d sooner lose ALL inhibition and pride and forbearance. I’d cry the tears and love the pain Because it F E E L S better to ache, to seethe in misery, than to flatline thru to peril. Lauren Rich 08.29.2013
I anticipated that I’d likely be hit by an emotional train as I face my shit and work through all the ghosts of the past that I otherwise tried to simply ignore. At least that’s how I’m making sense for myself why I’m all over the place emotionally.
I could have done that; I contemplated it. But it fundamentally comes down to either taking my life or taking my case. I guess we’re all ultimately faced with that decision.
Mental illness is hard enough to navigate without tacking on the godawful stigma associated with being “mentally ill.” The brain, like any organ, gets sick at times, yet those of us who are unlucky enough to be plagued with such troubles are forced into deeper, darker recesses of shame and humiliation should we be brave enough to reach out and say that we need help. I still find it baffling that I’ve not received a single “Get Well Soon!” card/balloon/bouquet/whatever despite multiple hospitalizations and disability leave. Never have I felt so guilty, mortified, and alone simply because I’m sick.