I’ve often heard black described in less than flattering terms. After all, black is dark and scary things lurk in the darkness. Shadows are dark, unhappy moods are dark, monsters hide in dark closets and of course, it is always darkest before the dawn.
Wait, please wait
oh, where are you?
I see you as I look away
don’t leave so soon
I can all but just recall
a distant place
They were like wolves. No, hyenas. Ripping and tearing, feasting on my most intimate frailty. I tried to fight, to make my worth known. I wasn’t very convincing. God, I couldn’t convince myself. I just didn’t know that…
I don’t usually share this part of my life with anyone, well, ever. It is about addiction. This time I will because it is the only way I know how to share what followed. It took a long time and it is only by chance (or was it?) that I was given a glimpse of such beautiful ugly. I hope it will be for someone out there.
It was happening, it was one of those days, one of those moods. I began to get hot, things were ringing up as wrong prices, people were waiting while I tried to get things worked out, waiting for managers to fix the system. Customers getting impatient in line, staring at me work. I started to sweat, I was seething inside. I was not blatantly rude to anybody, but I certainly was not overly friendly, and I most definitely couldn’t muster up a smile. It was taking all my energy not to flip the cash machine over, walk away and say “to hell with it!”…
I wanted to write this evening about something that has stuck in my mind for a long time. There were two incidences, several years apart, but they are very similar. They are both examples of stigma and how uninformed many people are about mental illness. Both occurred where I was working at the time, and both involved a discussion between co-workers (myself included)…