i will literally reblog this every time i see it
A Pakistani and Chinese soldier holding hands at the border.
One of my favorite photos of mine of the @maven2mars #MAVENLaunch
We’re everywhere. We appear functional, maybe even successful. However, inside, our brains are not quite like yours. The medical profession identifies them as disorders (because we aren’t neuro-typical). Even though the DSM requires disruption of normal functioning, the names still imply disorders. (Example - I have ADHD, I’m fairly visible/forward about that, though there are more ways that it benefits than disrupts me, but I still have that “disorder” label attached to me).
We’re everywhere. Trying so hard not to let the parts that are not typical slip through and show (it’s ok, today, with ADHD, as that has become ‘acceptable’ to have. Sometimes I think it may even be “in” to have). Putting that extra level of filter and review on everything that we say. Scrambling and playing catch up and playing along when something about the environment we’re in goes sideways, and we lose our place, or can’t follow along.
We’re everywhere. Cringing inwardly at your joke about the voices in your head, at your slam of someone who is indecisive being schizo, brushing off someone’s energy as manic, making a mess to fuck with the obsessive compulsive, doing your best “retard voice”. Or worse, biting our tongues when you’re dismissive of someone’s depression (“they’re life is great, what do they have to be depressed about?”), mocking of someone’s OCD, putting the socially anxious on the spot, and more.
We’re everywhere. Staying silent because we fear your reaction if we were to tell you. Would you accept us? Would you mock us? Would you dismiss us? Would you gossip about us to other people? Would you misunderstand? Would you still trust us? Would you respect us? Would you fire us? Would you cut us out of your life?
We’re everywhere. We cope, we manage, we live, we love, we hurt, we swing, we hide, we fear. We carry these secrets inside of us, desperately wanting the comfort of telling someone, fearing the response, staying quiet. , feeling alone, feeling isolated, feeling lost.
We are everywhere. We are not alone. We are.
I know. I’m guilty of being quiet. Guilty of, in the past, having made some of those jokes, some of those comments, even when they’re biting to me. I can poke the people around me when they misspeak. I don’t think I can yet open my mouth from experience though, not to them. I’m not quite ready to, as harvey milk once declared, “come out come out, wherever your are.”