Depression is Real and So is Ignorance

It’s suicide prevention month, and as most of you know, suicide is the second leading cause of death in children and teens, second to motor vehicle accidents.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up at 3am (I rarely sleep when I am beginning to swing) and went to twitter and saw the following from this ignorant fool:

Now we know that this guy is clearly lacking any sort of empathy, but my issue is that in 2017 we are still having to battle this ridiculous fucking mindset – ignorance – and with these people who have these platforms and followers who struggle with mental health themselves.

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It is never okay to discount an illness, not fucking ever, that is the stuff that stops people from reaching out for help, and that is never okay.

 

Unkind people are usually that way because others have been unkind to them, but there is no excuse for ignorance or complete denial of mental health issues, that is a dangerous thing.

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When ignorance is given a voice, ours must be louder.

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Tate goes on and on in his Twitter rant stating, “Sure I’d be depressed if I was broke. Fat. Lonely. With zero life goals. Do I need pills or a reality check? You propagate the excuses.” and then I think about the well known and much-loved souls who have died by suicide and seemed to have been living everything Tate praises and I get furious.

Kurt Cobain
Robin Williams
David Foster Wallace
Chris Cornell

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According to Tate, “Pretending depression is something you catch and absolving all personal responsibility while downing pills and complaining is BS.” and that, my friends is fucking staggering to me. Because this guy can not wrap his tiny head around facts, he’d rather admonish anyone who struggles and then kicks it up a notch with words like these, “Everyone’s a depressive now.  Oh, you’re all so special and have such hard problems those in Syria are glad they aren’t  you boohoo.” 

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Trolls the likes of Andrew Tate are a dime a dozen, people struggling with depression and other mental illnesses are 1 in 5, and while Tate discriminates, Mental illness doesn’t. Let’s all hope the black dog is never nipping at this motherfucker’s heels.

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The Andrew Tates of the world are part of the problem, you aren’t. You are a badass every damn day, because not only must you struggle with your own thoughts, you have to fight against this misinformed Andrew Tates of the world. Rock on with your badass selves, you’re the winners here.

If you are struggling at all, reach out, it is hard to do, but it is one of the bravest and best things you will ever do. Never be ashamed of your illness, it’s not your fault. Never let the unkind words of another stop you from seeking help because regardless of what fools say, they are only that: fools, fools who are looking for attention. You matter, your life matters, and you are never alone.

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If you are struggling please call The National Suicide Prevention Hotline

Nothing Will Change The World

For Fiona, and every other guardian of nothing.

Nothing Will Change The World

You told us to stop writing and start doing
because our words mean nothing,
our voices mean nothing,
and nothing we say will change the world.
Nothing will convince the sun
that she should set on golden shoulders and rise
falling over battlefields exploding with something.
Oh, but darling you don’t understand how nothing
has burrowed deep into our lungs, sprouted
and crawled sideways up the length of our necks,
kicking its heels into the back of our throats,
to dance upon a gagging silence.
Nothing was sown into the walls of our mouths,
planted beneath our tongues long before
you ever decided to be so wrong.
We are filled to bursting with nothing,
and nothing bursting is a dangerous thing indeed.
Nothing has incited riots, violent quaking change
erupting on the heels of so much nothing.
With little more than nothing the blind can see,
the world can taste red,
and we can make you weep for your very soul.
We are the guardians of nothing
and nothing we shall unleash onto you.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

Hush

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Picture source: Pinterest

If I could claw
the words out of
the back
of my throat and give them,
dripping of me, to you,
we would talk of sticky hands,
and the messes they make.

©Nicole Lyons 2016

Thank you, Sir, Can I Have Another? – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

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Picture Credit: Midge Belickis©2012

Thank you, Sir,
can I have another?
I wasn’t quite clear
the first dozen times
you called me a bitch,
a whiny female,
worthless.
Tell me again
how I’m dramatic,
overreacting, just in the way.
Tell me how
I’m ruining everything for you
just by talking.
Somehow my voice
got a firm grip on your balls
and the more I talk,
the more they shrivel away.
You’re losing your power,
testosterone, masculinity,
to my truth, my fight, my words…
you are weak and scared.
I don’t even care about you
or your twisted opinion
about the kitchen I should be
standing in, but you are terrified.
My voice is scaring the shit
out of you, and I gotta tell you
it’s funny.. yes, I’m laughing..
at you. I am everything
you want to be, I am everything
you thought you were,
I am everything you’re not,
and will never be.
I’m not competing with you.
I’m not threatened by you,
but you… filled with so much
fear that one day,
you will wake up to see
that we both get paid the same wage
for the same job,
pay the same price for a haircut,
and we’ll walk down the same street
without anyone yelling “bitch.”
That day scares you,
but it’s coming…
brace yourself.

© Stephanie Bennett-Henry 2016

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You can connect with Stephanie on Raging Rhetoric, and find her exquisite writing on Stephanie Bennett-Henry, Instagram, Twitter, and on her website.

If I Could – Nicole on FC

A huge thank you to Julie Anderson and Feminine Collective for publishing one of my most personal pieces today. I wrote this one quite awhile back in response to people dismissing my illness.

If I Could

The Ugliest War of You 

Absolutely amazing. This is exceptional.

 

I live in a place where people say “faggot”  as causal as one would say, “hello.” A passing respectful nod from a stranger  is common, although just under his brea…

Source: The Ugliest War of You 

Of Maniacs and Manics

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Photo Source: Pinterest

 

You understand words like,
empty, dry, and nothing
but you’ll never know
what hollow feels
like
because your mind
will never take you
under.
It won’t swallow
the smile
from your daughter’s face
before it ever reaches
your eyes.
You understand words like,
full, vibrant, and ecstasy
but you’ll never know
what euphoria feels
like
when you walk body
hot
on a wet summer’s day
into a cool room,
worlds colliding
on your skin.
You call me crazy
because I feel
everything,
but I feel sorry
for you
because you don’t.

© Nicole Lyons 2016

You Don’t Know Me – Dianne Hoffmeyer

 

 

You think you know me?

You don’t.

You think I’m the same woman from a few years back?

Not even close.

You think I’m still quiet, subservient, timid and fragile?

Afraid Not.

You think I’m just going to let you do and say what you want to me?

Think again…

 

I can see through your lies and bullshit.

I was taught by the very best.

I know your game of manipulation, you’re a player, but now I am a coach.

I know how to be strong, because that’s all I’ve ever been since I put myself back together- alone.

I am neither quiet, nor am I timid.

 

I say it like it is, I am proud of who I am,

I do not like to fight, but I am not afraid to bleed.

 

I use my voice to rise above the lies and rumors and gossip that is said about me.

 

No, I know exactly who I am.

 

I am not scared to be myself, I am not scared to be alone, I am not scared for my future even though I don’t know what’s in store for me.

 

I stitched my pain, my tears, my blood,

my anger, my sadness and my loneliness together with such a durable string, that no matter how hard I am tugged on,

pulled on, stretched, dropped,

ignored, abandoned, and no longer loved

so well, that I have MADE the woman you see today.

 

I am everything you hate, I am all kinds of hurt, I draw strength from solitude, my ideas are formed from isolation. I am loved by myself, for myself, with no motives, with no deceptions, with no lies.

 

So before you think you know me,

Think again.

© Dianne Hoffmeyer 2016

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Dianne is an amazing woman; to call her “strong” or “brave” doesn’t cover the half of it. Dianne is a fighter. Blessed with nine beautiful children, she has lived through every mother’s worst nightmare, the death of her child, and she has done it twice.

As a survivor of domestic violence, Dianne found the courage to put her ex husband behind bars, after he shot and stabbed her.

Clean for seven years, Dianne is a recovering addict who in her words, “kept breaking out of handcuffs” until she realized it was time to stop.

Diagnosed with bipolar disorder, anxiety, and PTSD, Dianne is also in advanced stages congestive heart failure. To say she is brave and strong doesn’t do her justice.

Dianne found happiness with her soul mate and was recently married. Her kids are her life, and every decision she makes is made in hope that it is the right one and guides them down the right path in their lives.

The life of love she tries to live each day is a legacy she hopes her kids will live, learn, and never forget.

Crazy, Cancer & Chuckles

Last month Stephanie Bennett-Henry and I wrote something together that touches on Stigma. I was reluctant to post it for (get this) fear of offending people. How ridiculous is that? Pretty ridiculous considering the disgusting comments and jokes that people are making today, in regard to Sinead O’Connor.

I swear to God, some of you need to pass a test before using the Internet.

It’s May, which means it’s Mental Health Awareness month, and I tell you world, you fucking need it.

How funny would it be if I laughed as your daughter lay dying from cancer? What about your mother as she pukes up any strength she has left after dialysis? Maybe we could make a video that pokes fun at everyone who struggles to breathe in the middle of an asthma attack, bet we’d have a viral sensation on our hands there.

Your ignorance is showing, cover that shit up.

Stigma.

 

S&N illness

Abandoned in Wonderland – Charlene Trolinder

I wasn’t born into normality. My first breath I ever took on this earth came with struggle and strife. I’ve only known the painful roads of life. I guess that’s what contributed to the coldness of my beating heart most of my life. I wasn’t a daydreamer, a wish upon a star type, because I knew just how cruel life could be.

 

Then one day I met someone I saw in a different light. She touched a void in my life, a mother. I began to believe in fairytales. The Emerald city seemed so real and and the wizard was granting my wish. I almost couldn’t believe it after so long of emptiness and hurt, I had fell down the rabbit hole and found my wonderland, and my white queen was someone I could love and call mom. I should have known better. I should have known every star wished upon dies out. Every daydream fades away. Some fairytales don’t have happy endings.

 

As I believed and trusted in her she was out seeking her knight in shining armor. He turned out to be my worse nightmare. I became a passing thought. I was simply pushed aside. Her knight in shining armor became the slayer of my self-worth and dignity. He picked each word with the intent of using them to shatter my soul. Each volley of cruelty he spoke to me scarred my heart more and more. Love had become my death trap. I survived because you see since my first breath of life I have known nothing but to fight and survive.

 

Today I don’t sit here writing this hoping to wish upon a star or dream a dream a little sweeter, I sit here bleeding these words to grow and heal. Today I hope for the heart to know I can be loved, the brains to recognize I am worthy, and the courage to understand that one day the world will embrace me for who I am, the little fighter that forged an undying soul and a big loving heart.

 

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Charlene Trolinder aka Lorna Evol is a small town kid born and raised in Dumas, TX. She fought all her childhood to survive, born with a rare chromosomal disease. She attended West Texas A&M, where she obtained a Bachelor’s in Psychology. It was later in life that she realized she struggled with severe depression and anxiety. Each day is a battle, but she loves the simple things. She is an avid reader and animal lover. She draws her inspiration from her struggles, and she tries to give hope to others through her words.

Follow Lorna’s beautiful words on Evocative Eloquence.