I have not been quiet about my journey or struggles with mental health, hoping I might help one person. That I feel the depths of their pain, I get the burden, and the feelings of helplessness, completely and utterly alone. I endure the ups and downs, anxiety and depression. 
This past year has given you all a tiny glimpse into what “fight or flight” feels like under the skin. 

It steals your dreams, your hopes, your faith, and leaves you numb. 
Better off dead, says the incessant voice in my head. 

I wake up every day and fight. 
To live. To stay.
To be here in this ugly world. 
Will today be the day bipolar wins? 
Or will I find the courage to battle the minefield that is the unruly brain? 

I have been mostly quiet this year because I need every ounce of energy to stay and to find some ray of beauty buried under the muck. And the stench of lost lives. 

There has been much talk about #blacklivesmatter, #stopasianhate, #metoo movements, loud and proud and I agree 100 percent. 
Equality, empathy, and emotional healing need to happen. Right now. 
Humanity needs a blanket of love and kindness to carry us through. 

When I witnessed #danielprude amid a mental illness crisis, naked in the freezing street with a hood shoved over his head I sobbed. I lost my voice. This troubled man was murdered by the police. I cannot be silenced or shamed any longer. 

WHAT IF THAT HAD BEEN ME? 
Would they have treated me the same, a white woman experiencing psychosis? Everything about us has to change. 

Where are the advocates, the helpers, the healers? 

This year, this horrific pandemic has left the mentally ill alienated, suicidal, and suffering alone. 
My silence is not because I’m ashamed of them or my illness, it’s because I’m disgusted by society and their greed, hatred, and blind eye attitudes. 
Disgusted. Disappointed. Brokenhearted.

Do not think for one second I won’t fight for the less fortunate, the invisible, and the mentally unstable because they are the kindest, creative, most compassionate, and best of us all.
Never judge a book by its pretty cover. 
I’m smiling, through the pain of it all.