For as long as he could remember his skin was a weapon he was made to understand that everyone saw him as black boy not smart boy mamas boy so sweet that he wouldn’t hurt a fly boy went to school and straight back home boy smile so hard his face hurt boy got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time boy put your hands up boy white man looks at him white police officer who hold his gun upright eyes him with intent keep your hands up boy I wont be scared to shoot boy remember what you are boy all he could hear were his mothers words comply and you’ll be fine his chest rises and falls his last moments are controlled by the pull of a trigger the slightest movement is the cause of another black boy’s body echoing to the ground boy
T arget – That is what you are. Doesn’t Matter what kind of person you are on in the inside.
H oodlum – Your savage looks and slang make you less of a human
I dentity – Is defined as the action or process of identifying someone or something or the fact of being identified. Identity stripped hundreds of years ago and they are still more layers being peeled.
S anity – It’s there. You have IT. Or do You?
I ntegrity – Is one of your strongest well-known characteristics. Well so I thought. Infamous is what you are. Apparently.
S oul – Can be taken from your flesh without you having a warning.
A nger – Yea we feel it too. To bad this feeling was obtained after what happened to you.
M urder – No, Massacre. Although it only occurs one at a time. The quanity within the time frame is dissemination.
E quality – For who? Exercise your rights…Pow. Speak Knowledge…Pow. Lead your People…Pow. Driving in a car…Pow. Following instructions and holding your hands up. Ha you guessed it…POW POW.
R apine – Your temple as been violated. You, your family, and community get no type of apology.
I nnocent – Until Proven Guilty this does not pertain to you. You, you are Guilty Until Proven Innocent.
C olor – This is obvious. Your pigmentation is the cause of your assassination. A feature that you can not control. A feature that you did not choose. But unfortunately since you are an offspring of color you can not have control of your life or…death.
A nother Hashtag – Another Victim, Another Statistic. And the despising part of it all is that this cycle will live on but those that are in the cycle won’t.
I was hoping Someone would get me. Because I can’t Escape the Nightmare That is Reality to me… Even my Tears for so long tried to Flee the Trauma that is Inside Me. Cold, Barren, Stagnant they became Rising up as it Meets just Beneath the Surface Of Another mind frame Afraid to Let It Go So I close The Curtains that Hold In the Universe that is Internally Bleeding. I’m Completley Submerged like a Tide It continues to Rise up and Meet its Purpose Ever Flowing Into The Verses These Walls I build Higher, Then Higher at the Notion. But as I kept them Bottled up like the Message it held inside, At last tonight they succeed. They Race down my Face Like waves in Steady Motion It Craves Endless Devotion to rid the pressure like I’m shaking like a Manic psychopath. They fled my heart daily. I fight to try hold back the Dam but Damn it it has reached new levels. The tide is much to high that it eclipses the sun. Know I should run but weak and broken are these bones.
Time is the continued progress of existence, past, present, and future as a whole Achieving in an amount of time is goal But don’t let time control you, time will only help joined with your working hand Sometimes it’s better to hand it to time than planned At the end of the day when all is done, you worked so hard to stay fun But you lay in your bed going over what you did wrong Know when to keep trying But know when it’s enough, and let your life be a waiting game Whatever came, will also come Sometimes love is not enough, the run can be tough Nothing is one-sided But with time that will pass us Maybe our timing will become right And our mindsets will meet so things will be more light Or time will show it wasn’t meant to be and I will find my way to a perfect right You say you love my way with words Why couldn’t I find the right words at the time But now I write this and words flow beautifully out of this rhyme When things are out of your control, remember time is on your side When things aren’t going how you planned, remember you tried Don’t forget how you felt that night when you accepted things for how it was and swore you were alright That’s how you truly feel Because now you sit here in the dark swearing everything is a mess and nothing is light The what if’s and what could have been will consume your mind until you lose your sense of right now Time doesn’t wait for any of us, notice what leaves and what life allows Sometimes I feel crazy because I crave a sense of control I found that sense to only drive away what I had as my goal I need to work on being more calm and remembering some things are out of my control You keep holding on in thought of how things use to be But for now it’s not like that anymore, you don’t know who you see Time has hurt but time has also healed When I have done all I could do I sit in my room crying for things to be over But time is all that grew Taking my pain with it too
SEPTEMBER 19, 2017 was my set date I planned to leave this earth. I was sick of crying, tired of trying, yes I was smiling but inside I was dying.
Sometimes, the most difficult and painful subjects need to be addressed head on. Failure to do so can result in loss of life occurring in such a way that the lives of others are altered forever. Yet, we still hesitate to bring up the subject, perhaps out of some understandable but misguided fear that the words alone might result in our greatest nightmare becoming a reality. Nonetheless, difficult as it is and truly frightening as it may be, there comes a time when a light needs to shine in those darkest corners where the fear often resides.
Framing suicide as a method to get attention paints those who are sick as manipulative, when in fact, they are simply really ill. In addition, even if a suicide attempt is a cry for help, it means they need help–so let’s help! My Depression and Bipolar overtook my mind to think lower of myself.
The despairing emotions that lays the groundwork for suicidal thoughts: Hopelessness, Helplessness, and Worthlessness. Hopelessness says, “Things will never get better. This will go on forever. Don’t even bother trying.” Helplessness is paralyzing: you see no control over your own life—things just keep happening to you that make you feel worse and worse. Worthlessness says, “And you’re a total failure of a human being. anyway. Your life is a waste.”
This unhappy trio shouts so loudly that any whispers of hope, efficacy, or worth get drowned out. Many individuals who commit suicide truly believe they are doing everyone around them a favor.
When I became clean and sober I wasn’t numbing these thoughts away. I wasn’t the “life” of the party anymore. I felt friends and family turned their backs on me.
SEPTEMBER 26, 2017 – A week later- I found out I was going to be a father. It’s funny how a week before I would’ve been a mourned Husband, Father, Son, Brother and Friend. I receive the help I need to continue to move forward. God wasn’t ready for me standing at the gates of heaven. Depression and Suicide can affect anyone. You Are Not Alone.
Thank You for those that Read this Post. It’s not about Me. It’s about being Aware. #Stigma
Hi, I’m Charles. I don’t thank my Bipolar. For anything. Not a single thing. I acknowledge my illness, I understand it, I make my peace, but I don’t give my Bipolar any credit. That belongs to me. With or without it I’m fabulous. And my Mental illness can go fuck itself.
If I could take a pill that would cure me, I would snatch it right out of your hand and swallow it dry. Because my Bipolar Disorder doesn’t make me special, it makes my life complicated. My Bipolar Disorder doesn’t make me brave. It’s not the source of my strength. It lingers under the surface of my consciousness, wheedling into my brain and poisoning how I feel about myself and how I experience the world.
I’m special, brave, strong, and talented without my illness. Bipolar Disorder isn’t a trial that I need to tackle in order to show the world I’m tough enough. I don’t need an illness to exaggerate my awesomeness. With an illness that mimics identity it can be hard to tell where Bipolar ends and I begin. The boundaries are never that distinct. But my Bipolar Disorder isn’t a badge. It’s a label, a diagnosis, a hefty, troublesome detail. My Bipolar doesn’t get to take a bow.
I am stronger than I think I am I am my biggest critic I am the worst writer I am the worst singer I am the worst nursing student I am a horrible friend I am a horrible father I am my own destruction I am my own murderer I am my own Anxiety I am my own problem I am not worthy I am a mess I am a failure I am this But I am okay I am successful I am organized I am the most worthy I am a solution I am a fixed mental disorder I am my savior I am my own builder I am a great father I am a best friend I am the best nursing student I am an amazing singer I am an astounding writer I am my biggest critic And I am stronger than I think I am I am whatever you say I am
Everyone sees the Alcoholic that is passed out on the same park bench every morning, night, rain or shine, even though some pretend that they don’t.
Most wrinkle their nose in disgust, a few twist their faces in pity, but they all agree that he must be drinking to forget something terrible, but that it doesn’t excuse the behavior they deem unseemly.
It’s only if you sit next to him at the bar late at night, after he’s had just enough to loosen his tongue, he’ll grab his wallet and pull out old photos with lovingly worn edges. You’ll see the way his face lights up when he sees them and realize that he’s just drinking to remember.
He drinks to remember the way his wife smiled and sang under her breath in the kitchen an off-key version of an old love song they danced to on their special wedding day. Instead of gloomy hospital rooms and the steady beep of monitors that slowed to painful silence.
He drinks to remember the way his daughter’s eyes sparkled when he laughed and how they would toss the ball around in the backyard instead of a folded flag and the crack of gunfire giving one final goodbye.
They say that all the drinking will kill him but, when sobriety leaves him with nothing except tombstones and an empty house,