2· ill ease and scattered patters
Words are powerful things, they let us down, as fast as they bring us up. Such bullets, hurt when they hit, but are worse off when aimed by someone you love. Take a deep breath now, hold back that flinch, don't let it whisper - pain. The barrel is drawing in close, what a life you've lived, and what a "pity" it'll end. You almost give up, you're okay with getting hurt, if it's for the others. Eyes are closed. Numb. That's all you feel. But what if, just what if, they did not forget you, rather they did not see the signs. Humans should be defined as selfish, because that's what we are, it doesn't mean you need to stop breathing. In order to get into your mind, white coats prod, poke and press, trying to diagnose the undiagnosable. I mean why should it be an illness? When that's how you feel? They don't know better, but we'll let them pretend they do. To try recognise what we truly need; Some love. It seems so easy, But like that recipe with that one missing ingredient, it just won't fit right.
No one should have the right to judge you when you're mentally ill. It's all stigma that makes mentally "healthy" people think people who are depressed, have schizophrenia, bi-polar are dangerous. No, they are capable people who want to live a good life. I could ramble on about statistics, but what's the point? Just remember that being mentally ill does not mean you are going to be like that forever. It means that you need help and love to feel free again.