“crazy” woman talking (a personal trigger)

Calling someone crazy is the lowest of the low digs that an emotional antagonist uses to dismiss and discount someone with mental illness.  We with mental illness struggle to not feel, think, or appear crazy. It hurts worse when it comes from someone that has first hand knowledge of your struggle to overcome the stigma of mental illness.

Calling someone crazy is like throwing a dagger that lands in the middle of our heart and it stays there for days while we struggle to tell ourselves that we arenot crazy.

We are what happened to us.  We did not give ourselves P,T.S.D. or depression.

I have worked hard in therapy to undo what has been done unto me and to call me crazy invalidates every thing I have sacrificed to be make myself whole.

Calling me crazy triggers me to a place that is hard to return.  The spirits of the past are all too willing to remind me of what happened to me.  I have to fight to keep from falling into the deep hole of depression.

In the past it took me weeks, even months to return to a place of peace where I control the thoughts and images that enter my mind.  I mean, really?, do people really think  I enjoy this shit?  I isolate because I am bruised and cant stand for anyone to look at me feeling defeated.   I want to disappear and not have to deal with the exhaustion of fighting an invisible enemy.

Depression

I feel it licking at my heels

it pulls and laughs at me

challenging me

I have to dig deep

pull out what God has given me for this storm

God can you hear me

as I scream from the depth of my soul

no sound

bound

it is grabbing my ankles

its slithers up my legs

when it reaches my heart

I am full

I burst when it reaches my mind

I sling slander in my path

so you wont hinder my form of descent

into the pits of hell

depression says

sunshine blue skies seem so far a way

But God, when I reach my lowest

the light is waiting

it holds me

it consoles me

I breath in the energy

I need to make this reappearance sweet

I retreat

the light of love

heals me with relief

I remember

whose I am

free

breath

peace

by mozayik “the souls’ poet”