I wonder…

We wonder why there are so many people with mental health issues. Homeless on the streets, white males shooting up schools, mothers driving onto baseball fields, “successful” fashion designers taking their own lives. “Just get help”, you say. “Just reach out”. You have *no concept* of those words unless you are in the thick of it. How F*&%ing hard it is to find someone you can talk to, who has a sliding scale or if you’re very lucky – who takes your insurance plan, to make that phone call, to wait for the day of the appointment, to get up and get dressed on that day of the appointment, to walk through that door on the day of that appointment, to move through the fog, to move those feet made of concrete, to bare your entire soul to a stranger, to hear “lose some weight” or “you’re too young for menopause” or “you don’t need blood tests”, to think that you see behind their eyes that you’re making this up or aren’t in that bad a shape or so many people have it worse. You have *no clue* how it feels so scary yet so hopeful to swallow a pill that on one hand might (in 4 to 8 weeks) make you feel alive again, allow you to see color again, quiet the demons and the rage and the frustration, and allow you to be the person you know you can be, but just can’t seem to drag out from under the covers. But on the other hand, that magic pill might cause you to have violent intestinal upset, or night sweats or inability to orgasm or suicidal thoughts (explain that one to me!) or insane dreams and insomnia or heart palpitations or more anxiety or… If you are lucky enough to have survived those 4 to 8 weeks and still have your job and your relationships intact, but are *still* struggling, you need to make that god-forsaken phone call again, to wait for that damn appointment – again – and start all over hoping that this new magic pill might work – in another 4- 8 weeks. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Why do we have to struggle – so damn hard – to make ourselves better when even the simplest act is already impossible to complete. Why do so many people self-medicate with illicit drugs and alcohol? Why do so many take the easy way out and just end the suffering? Why in today’s day and age can we not figure out what the f#$@ is happening in our brains and how to make it better? You ask “why didn’t i know”? “Why didn’t they just ask for help”?
I wonder….

adult alone autumn brick
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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