Friday, December 3, 2010

This isn't a literary masterpiece, it's just what I'm thinking about today.

Today I finished my mental health clinical and I was a little bit sadder about it then I expected to be. Yesterday, Connor told me it would be okay for me to cry if I needed to, and I shook it off like it ain’t no thang. No. Not like that. Because I never say things like that. Point being, today I realized how much I needed Connor’s words because working with the mentally ill this last semester is one of my favorite things that I have ever done. My heart is broken for the mentally ill. It breaks because the stigma surrounding “mental illness” and the way people have treated fellow human beings like animals just because they were labeled “crazy” in the past. I can’t imagine how terrifying and vulnerable it is to not be able to trust what is going on in your own head. Yet, if I’ve learned anything this semester it’s that those that have mental illness don’t have a voice for themselves; I’m learning more and more that being a nurse is being the voice for those that can’t speak for themselves. This is why I am so passionate about mental illness, about speaking out against abortion, and about bringing healthcare to women in Afghanistan who have been deprived of decent care for years.

We live in a world full of hurt, brokenness, and lies and I kind of wonder how we don’t all suffer from mental health problems. Hopefully, this is one tiny way that I can bring the Kingdom full of hope and restoration and good things.


“Listen.

Can you hear it?

Does it speak?

Will I feel it?

Will it hurt?

Am I near it?

...

I don’t know.”

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