As I am turned in for the night, yesterday night, I wanted to say to God how grateful I am. So I wrote on FB. *** If I want to say to God, why write in FB, right? I don’t think God is on FB. Or is he!
Growing up I had seen a woman, a mentally ill woman in my village. She walked around in dirty clothes talking to herself. Everyone avoided her and her family. She had a daughter who was a few years younger to me. She had a husband, a home, a life. And she was ill. She adorned the nickname “crazy.”
All these years later, some days I wonder how lucky I am. How lucky I am to have the blessings I have. How lucky I am to be here. How lucky I am that I can fight the stigma and find help. How lucky I am to be alive in this space and time.
If you are one of the many, please don’t stop fighting. Knock on every door. Ask for help even if you fear you will be cast out. It’s ok. It will hurt for a moment. But that will pass, and someone will help. Don’t give in to that voice in your head that is telling you that it will not get better. It might get better. It will not be easy.
Fuck it. It will be so damn hard. But you can do it. Don’t give up.