I’m a mess of failures this week.
But it’s okay.
Perhaps I’ll give myself a tweak.
I’ll turn this nob just so.
A little to the left.
It should be good to go.
If I turn this one three to the right
Perhaps I’ll be able to sleep at night.
If I slide this five inches to this side
Maybe I’ll be able to stop my ideation of suicide.
If I push this button three times
Maybe life would be a little kind.
This week is Mental Health Awareness Week, I read. We need more than one week.
On this blog, I write about my mental health issues. I don’t stray away from what I am, although, I have.
The above poem was written as sort of a free write. I just started writing and suddenly I didn’t like where my brain was going. It took some time and thought before I typed the last few sentences. It really wasn’t where I wanted to go.
And that’s just it.
We have to talk about mental health. We can’t pause. We can’t idle our thoughts. We must blurt them out without shame or fear.
I have PTSD. I have general anxiety. I am a manic depressive. I’m also a former sex addict. (Though some would like to discredit me on this statement. However, they can fuck off because I’ve been “clean” for two years and now I’m healing myself)
I’ve had one hell of a life and it isn’t over.
We have to be okay with saying we aren’t okay. No one is okay. We all have shit. We all have something. Something we’d rather not talk about. Something we aren’t quite ready to share, and that is okay.
I’ve put a million things before me. All are unfinished tasks. Some days I’m all for doing them. On other days, I’d rather sleep, or perhaps cry, and most likely, it’s always both.
This month, that isn’t over, has proven different for me and my mental health. I don’t need a week of awareness, I need decades and in the future, we will need centuries.
We need it every day.
So if you’re struggling, it is okay. Just talk to someone. I often find it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a friend.
This is my friend, Einstein. He’s a good listener.
(As a disclosure, please know I am okay. I haven’t thought of suicide in over a year. It stopped or perhaps paused when I weaned myself off of others. I still think about other people and what I would do to them, but it’s better. It’s interesting how one coincided with the other. It wasn’t something I became aware of until recently. It’s amazing what a clear head will do.)