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1stmateI preface this poem by saying that this week's topic actually made me very angry. It's full of interesting ideas, but there are better ways to say those ideas than by throwing around words like 'crazy' all the time. I realize that many people simply don't think before they speak or type, but maybe this will convince you to check your ableist language first. Let me show you what it's like from the other side. It's better to intentionally not harm someone than to unintentionally do harm, right?
On that note, warnings for frank discussion of mental illness - specifically of depression, psychosis, and suicide - and several derogatory terms used on people with mental illnesses.
Some people go through life wearing many hats,
but my head is bare. Instead, you cover my mouth
with stickers proclaiming Hello, my name is ____.
My name is madman. My name is nutcase.
My name is screwball, maniac, head case,
my name is deranged, demented, unhinged;
my name is worthless to you in light of these titles
that you have applied.
I am the defective walking
though I appear to be a normal person.
You have done this, too: you
tell me that normal has a definition,
that you can point at normal and know.
Because my depression cannot be seen,
because the anxiety is hidden by a careful façade,
because I do not announce to everyone
by the way, I am mentally ill,
you get to feel affronted when you discover
the deception. You get to tell me
that I am crazy and should be locked away.
You get to decide how my life should be.
Did you know that insane is not a clinical term?
I am not, clinically, insane. I cannot be.
Yet you make this determination for me.
You are kind enough to take away from me
the decision of how to describe myself.
Sometimes the depression is all it takes;
sometimes you require more evidence.
I have scars from years of cutting - I am insane.
I have attempted suicide - I am insane.
I have experienced two psychotic breaks,
hallucinated entire rooms of companions and
hallucinated myself in pieces. I am insane.
Thank you for letting me know. Where would I be
without your guiding hand?
I would be with the rest of the fruitcakes,
caught in a world where we are clearly the them.
The us, the normal people, do not want us.
You tell us every day. We hear and understand
every time you call your tv crazy, every time
you say that idea is insane. We are mad as hatters
and unwelcome outside of Wonderland. We are
the lunatics, invisible until you teach yourself how to look.
On that note, warnings for frank discussion of mental illness - specifically of depression, psychosis, and suicide - and several derogatory terms used on people with mental illnesses.
Some people go through life wearing many hats,
but my head is bare. Instead, you cover my mouth
with stickers proclaiming Hello, my name is ____.
My name is madman. My name is nutcase.
My name is screwball, maniac, head case,
my name is deranged, demented, unhinged;
my name is worthless to you in light of these titles
that you have applied.
I am the defective walking
though I appear to be a normal person.
You have done this, too: you
tell me that normal has a definition,
that you can point at normal and know.
Because my depression cannot be seen,
because the anxiety is hidden by a careful façade,
because I do not announce to everyone
by the way, I am mentally ill,
you get to feel affronted when you discover
the deception. You get to tell me
that I am crazy and should be locked away.
You get to decide how my life should be.
Did you know that insane is not a clinical term?
I am not, clinically, insane. I cannot be.
Yet you make this determination for me.
You are kind enough to take away from me
the decision of how to describe myself.
Sometimes the depression is all it takes;
sometimes you require more evidence.
I have scars from years of cutting - I am insane.
I have attempted suicide - I am insane.
I have experienced two psychotic breaks,
hallucinated entire rooms of companions and
hallucinated myself in pieces. I am insane.
Thank you for letting me know. Where would I be
without your guiding hand?
I would be with the rest of the fruitcakes,
caught in a world where we are clearly the them.
The us, the normal people, do not want us.
You tell us every day. We hear and understand
every time you call your tv crazy, every time
you say that idea is insane. We are mad as hatters
and unwelcome outside of Wonderland. We are
the lunatics, invisible until you teach yourself how to look.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 12:53 pm (UTC)But I DON'T thank you for the task you've set me on for week #2! *curses you*
no subject
Date: 2012-09-07 03:54 pm (UTC)I understand you completely. You've done that for me before, too, so I am glad to return the favor. ♥ You can keep anything of mine anywhere you like!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-09 12:04 pm (UTC)