Finally found where I belong: the queer community. It’s so good to finally fit in somewhere. My place in life is casting the faintest hint of a shadow in the distance … which is good, because I’m exhausted by this Ricocheting. Overspent a bit of my serotonin this past weekend and return to reality is harsh. Just want to buck the system now…
I discovered the name for my sexual identity this past weekend. I identify as a pansexual queer, not to be confused with bisexual. Please do follow the link for more details.
I’ve decided to also be more open about mental health here. It is part of me as well though once I was much more concerned/obsessed with the movement. I attended a workshop/lecture at this year’s MBLGTACC (Midwest Bisexual Lesbian Gay Transgendered Allies College Conference … see ‘this past weekend’ link for more info) about mental health. As it turns out, it was presented by NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness). Now, the presenters were two women who live with mental illness. That’s fine. And as this is a 3-day conference with 1-hour workshops/lectures, it must be elementary and I equate the experience of being a poor, starving college student rushing around a supermarket 10 minutes til closing and grabbing as many samples as possible; you only get a taste, and an elementary one at that. I’m not judging, just saying in the time allotted: it must be this way. So, the mental health presentation was the most basic–no new news for me. The presentation was broken by a video projected onto a large screen divided into such categories as “Dark Days” and “Coping Skills.” In between clips (testimonials), each of the two presenters gave their own accounts of the topic.
What really got me was that one, the more realistic one in my opinion, briefly mentioned the horrid hospital system (psychiatric) and how difficult it is to get out of. I’ve heard horror stories and was actually on my way to the hospital once but begged the driver to turn around. I was lucky enough to escape. So, I’m sitting here and there’s this woman, trembling at the mere mention of what it’s like to be in and out of the hospital and in the next breath she’s telling us we have to accept it. You have to accept it to get through it by which I took her to mean: you have to placate yourself in order to get out. And that matches all of the other stories I’ve read and the stories my dear friends have told me.
There wasn’t much time for questions but I got to ask mine. I asked her, in a nicer way, how she could have gone through the system and stand before us today, obviously negatively affected about the experience and moreover the repercussions, and tell us we have to submit to and accept such a system. She didn’t give me a real answer but did get upset. She sees this as the only option and told me we’re each going to fight our own battle. I guess she also said–basically–that if I want to do something to battle the system, more power to me but not everyone is strong enough to do so.
And I guess this is where I need to resume my activist battle. My old blog speaks directly to issues about mental illness. This blog is supposed to be solely about the repossession of my life from the System … and that System includes the mental health care sphere. There’s so much shame that I don’t want to identify with this fight, though. I feel so much personal shame (which is mentioned in one of my last posts) that … I don’t know. This community needs a voice and my voice is strong. I’m growing stronger … but it’s a delicate balance. A balance that I loathe and resent sometimes.
So … the question remains, I suppose: Now what?
SOUL REPO 