Stigmatization of People with Mental Disorders


"Stigmatization of people with mental disorders is manifested by bias, distrust, stereotyping, fear, embarrassment, anger, and/or avoidance. Stigma leads the (public) to avoid people with mental disorders. It reduces access to resources and leads to low self-esteem, isolation, and hopelessness. It deters
the public from seeking, and wanting to pay for care. Stigma results in outright discrimination and abuse. More tragically, it deprives people of their dignity and interferes with their full participation in society."

--U.S. Surgeon General Dr. David Satcher (ret.)

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Manic

She is a blue hawk cliff-diving deep, into the rocky seas…
Fall’s first scarlet leaf spiraling on a crisp September breeze.
In mania, with wings unfurled, she sails cerulean skies
She gulps it in with wonder-wide, her joy is on the rise.
She feels such sense of power, soaring above it all…
Suffused with full felicity, how could she ever fall?
Eu•pho•ri•a is a deceptive drug when the beast has taken hold
False infallibility exacts harsh consequences paid for with the soul.
She escalates to shutter-speed—distractions-flashing,
blurring-focus-fading-elation crashing-thrashing
Transmuted to an aberration, agitation spawns self-flagellation.
Her half-self-decimation is the monster’s perpetuation.
The cycle never ceases…

And the other side...


Blackly Fade the Days

Leaves are slowly falling
outside my bedroom window,
and I am lost in mourning
for a life that slipped away.
Depression is my lover,
whose arms will not release me.
Paralysis subdues me;
it will not set me free.
In stone I have been captured—
a statue carved in pain.
The world I see seems so surreal,
I am not sure I’m living,
and passing time slips by unknown
as blackly fade the days.

3 comments:

Thor said...

Wow! Sheree did you write this?
I am impressed.

samartines said...

Thanks so much. Yes, I wrote it. Writing helps!

samartines said...

And the other side of mania:

Leaves are slowly falling
outside my bedroom window,
and I am lost in mourning
for a life that slipped away.
Depression is my lover,
whose arms will not release me.
Paralysis subdues me;
it will not set me free.
In stone I have been captured—
a statue carved in pain.
The world I see seems so surreal,
I am not sure I’m living,
and passing time slips by unknown
as away days blackly fade.