Public transit, a nightmare.
Yet there I sit, going through my day.
The music in my ears, a trigger.
A thought...
Grade four, and it's lunch time.
My brother and I, are at home.
There we stand before him, waiting.
Then the blow.
Each a fist to the forehead...
the wall - our security - it holds us up.
I can't remember why...
Why he did it.
Why we deserved it.
A tear nearly escapes, as other's board the bus.
Like a train, they're connected.
One follows another.
The next thought, unwanted.
The day, unclear.
About twelve years of age.
A day I will never forget.
At the bottom of the stairs,
he cried out in pain,
and I was helpless.
He beat him,
she did nothing in fear,
and we all heard, helpless.
The song has changed,
and the next thought follows.
She was maybe ten,
she did nothing wrong,
but she upset him somehow.
He grabs her, picking her up,
then throws her sideways,
at the bedroom wall.
She falls onto the futon,
and I stand in dismay.
Why? I don't understand.
I can't do this.
I can't think about it.
I have to move on.
It's a new day, and I'm trying.
Trying to get through the day.
Trying to get past this trauma.
I can't cry in front of these people.
I can't let it in right now.
Can they see me?
Do they know what's happening?
Am I wearing it on my face?
I take three deep breathes,
and steady my heart.
I clear my mind and say;
Let it go. Focus on today.
I repeat once more.
Three deep breathes;
Let it go, focus on today.
*Did anyone see me?
Did they notice?
...no one saw me.
Thankfully.
Just a little more insight as to what it's like for those who suffer from mental illnesses. There is little control; of when it happens, or why it happens, or where it happens. Sometimes, the smallest things can be triggers. Another note, if you see someone who looks like they're going through this. Offer a polite and warm/comforting smile. Don't stare and judge us. Don't embarrass us with comments that make it public. Offer silent support, after all, you're still a stranger and it's personal.