I don’t matter.
An unpopular opinion from a sad black girl.
Even when the sun brighter than the R136a1, I still feel dark. Numb. Void. As if I am immune to the sun’s glorious rays. Even when there is a smile on my face, my heart feels like a ton of bricks. This is what an average day for me feels like internally. I continue to move forward; pushing through because if I don’t, who will for me? My unpopular opinion goes without saying, my mental health does matter. Our mental health does matter. With the suicide rates becoming astronomically high within our youth, I felt compelled to speak out; one voice for all. I was seven when I had my first suicide attempt. I experienced severe grief as a child. Yes, I’ve tried counselors. The mental health facility my small city has switched me over to another therapist every couple of months. Eventually, constantly opening up to strangers who would eventually leave anyway broke my spirit. I shut down. I tried to open up to the ones around me, but sometimes, I feel that they’d probably have better things to do than listen to me and my sorrows. Is it my hesitation blocking me from being honest and upfront? I’ve loved, I’ve lost. I’ve seen numerous loved ones with no souls in pretty, smooth caskets. I’ve been abused physically, mentally and emotionally by the hands of my son’s biological father. I’ve been molested by close family friend. I’ve been raped by my best friend’s older brother who groomed me as a child. My father (who also fathers 28+ other children) is a career felon whose recent stint in prison had no effect. He’s back on drugs and once again, I don’t exist in his world. He was never there, so why the hell do I care so much? I care because I’m human. I suffer from bipolar type 1 disorder, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD and as a child, I suffered with ODD. That made things really rough for me and I allowed people to take advantage of me. I grew up tough in my city. We grew up in what we, in my city call “the trenches”. Then, we moved to an area that we call “Area 51”. I felt blocked off from the world. We all had to sell to get by. What can I say? Money is the root of all evil, but we need it to survive. Does that make us all sinners? With all of the commotion that goes on in my little life, I ask myself constantly “Don’t you matter?” At almost 20 years old, I still hesitate to answer that question, but I know that I do! If you are reading this and you are feeling low, if you feel like if the world were to end right now, you wouldn’t miss a thing... you would. I would miss you! I don’t even know you and I would miss you. Anyone who has ever woke up feeling like I have, I am here! If me opening up this way penetrates someone’s alligator skin, I can die in peace. As an unknown writer once said “My intentions are good and my heart is pure.” I want to save you from that despair while also saving myself. This brings my unpopular opinion to a close. WE DO MATTER! #MENTALHEALTHAWARENESS MATTERS! You reading this are a gift from God, Allah, Buddha, the universe, whatever you believe in. You may even be shaking your head in disagreement, but I believe in you. My opinion of you is unpopular simply because in order for it to be a fact, you have to believe it too. I am currently learning how to find courage within myself, as well. We will reform from unpopular opinions to legitimate facts, as long as we have each other. Let’s do this together, okay?