Stoping Silence

I’m experiencing some sort of hurt that I can’t stand to feel. Not for the fact that it hurts for I have dealt with far worse but for the fact that I know so many others are standing under the same hurt I experienced during the depth of my illness.  Let me explain further.

Last year was easily the hardest year of my life.  I fought for and tried to give up my life on numerous occasions.  The hurt of the deep darkness and depression I felt was strong enough to draw me to want to end my life.  The problem is that the reactions to my hurt worsend my hurt to an extreme that I honestly find hard to put into words.  Now I realize why many stay silent for the pain of dismissal was far more disturbing than the pain of depression or mania. 

Nothing made me want to kill myself more than the reactions to my attempted suicide.  By many, not all but many, I was not nurtured but instead I was punished. I was treated like a criminal.  This is a hard thing for many to comprehend.  For I know more than anyone how awful and wrong suicide is.  The difference, however, is I was not the criminal. I was the victim of a disease.  I was the victim of a very real illness called bipolar depression.  I could not suck it up nor could I pray it away.  I will restate something I wrote long ago.  I do believe Jesus can and does heal, but I also believe he provides us with modern medicine to heal.  Like a dibetic can’t live without insulin, mentally ill can not live without their medications either.

It seems medication for those with mental illnesses are greatly debated.  Some say the pharmaceutical companies feed off of people’s paranoia.  Once again, I am shaken and insulted to the core of my being.  Do not dismiss these illnesses.  This is what leads people to keep quiet.  This is what lets depression win.  We tell people to fight for their lives when it comes to cancer by using strong medications but them others are told to suck it up because the medication will mess you up more.  This statement has my cringing.  Trust me when I say, in my depths, I could not be messed up any more.  I would never tell anyone the things I’ve thought in fear of disturbing them.  You see, I am sick, but my sickness is invisable to the naked eye. 

I hate knowing others also must deal with this dismissal. I hate knowing people are invalidated.  I hate knowing people are taking their lives daily because of such ignorance. I hate seeing jokes about the mentally ill depicted in straight jackets.  I hate the fear associate with places that treat the mentally ill.  I hate thinking back on how I was treated after I attempted suicide and knowing others are treated similarly.  

Please hear me out on this one and make yourself an ally to those who suffer in silence. Talk about it and be about it.  

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