What if I’m fine didn’t mean “okay” in words,
Perhaps the truth doesn’t come in verbs,
My perceptions often creates a hostile attribution bias,
Where my brain becomes overwhelmed by lies,
Suddenly my environment no longer feels secure,
A mirage of rejection and disdain begins to obscure,
The view of the people I’ve known for years,
Their fondness for me disappears.
Have you ever felt attacked or unjustly uncomfortable by manic chatter,
What about cold-shouldered, ignored, or judged on some matter,
That is so beyond any intention,
I am an asshole if I chose abstention.
Yet with my moods, I risk misinterpretation when I choose to engage,
What a cage.
The cure is to pray more and get more religious,
It is my defects and spiritual sickness, not mental illness,
Who knew?! I don’t even need meds!
I just need to get on my knees more and out of my head,
Because God can heal alcoholism and chemical imbalances,
I’ve been taking way too many allowances.
This is the equivalent of trying to pray away the gay,
Just hang in there; I’ll pray for you; Words that cause swelling in my temporal vein,
Don’t ask how I’m doing if you can’t sit with my pain,
Empathy blockers and general lack of understanding,
Don’t worry; I get it; my diagnosis is demanding,
I tried once, you’d say, and you brushed me off,
Did you try twice? Perhaps not; maybe once was enough.
Well, shit, there is just no winning.
Truth, that’s the bitch of a mental disorder that is cyclical spinning.
When it looks like they are accessible, reach out,
When it seems like they are not, reach out again,
When they brush you off, reach out,
When they run away, reach out again,
When they come back, reach out,
When they push you away, reach out again,
Persistence, empathy, and understanding is key,
To reach people in need.
They say to check on your friends because you just never know,
Perhaps you did, but did you do it more than once though?