Trigger warning: there’s mention of suicidal thoughts and attempts.

I felt outside of myself like I was watching a film of someone else playing me. The person who looked back at me in the mirror wasn’t me either. Where was I in all of this?

Where had I gone? Where was the person who used to occupy this body?

It turned out that she was the one doing all the screaming. She wanted to be heard. She was tired of being eroded by the prison of repression. She was tired of being told that she didn’t matter. She was hurt but wasn’t being allowed to heal. You can’t heal if you don’t bleed first.

Society had been telling me to “suck it up” for years. At school, I learnt that being yourself was not acceptable. You had to move with the heard to get anywhere. This teaching was reinforced outside of the classroom by my peers, elders, and those in authority.

I was an outcast because I couldn’t stop expressing myself. Eventually, I learned how to, and I was accepted again. Except it wasn’t me. It was this bad impression of me. In some ways, I had already died.

I stuffed the cupboards of my mind with all the things that I wasn’t allowed to say and feel and put a psychological padlock on it.

Looking back, it’s no surprise that everything kept falling out. The first few times, I tried to stuff it all back in. However, added to the load were more feelings of guilt, repulsion and hopelessness. The impact of the fallouts also became greater each time.

I couldn’t keep on like this. I couldn’t stand myself. People were better off without this pathetic wretch. I attempted to kill myself a few times. Thankfully, after many years, I was able to break the cycle and get the help and support that I needed.

If I’d been able to express myself and talk things through without fear, shame or ridicule, I could have spared myself so much pain.

Sadly, the society I live in still predominantly has a core structure of repression, shame and ridicule regarding thoughts and feelings. It seems that the preference is for people to suffer in silence and then die without causing a fuss.

I’ve heard it so many times from people who say that, in the past, people just got on with it. It’s understandable that they think that way, as those who couldn’t say anything often either end up rotting in institutions or dead. They were the weak, pathetic ones. It was even rarer in those days for compassion, kindness or understanding to be the response.

I have a plea for all my fellow humans. Please remember that we’re all human. Thoughts and feelings are part of the package. Sometimes, we need help and support with those, and that’s normal too.

Written By Lorna Smart

Blogger @Poemstellium

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