i remember the moment i realized that i was mentally ill. i was 11 years old. i didn’t know anything about mental illness, but knew something wasn’t ok. i was standing at the foot of my bed looking at Duran Duran posters on the wall and crying. my heart hurt. i feel that way sometimes now, too. all i can say to describe my feelings is that my heart and soul hurt.
looking at the posters, i knew that i wanted something desperately, but i didn’t know what. i felt so sad. i felt like i was a million years old.
i felt fear, too. i knew that if anyone found out that i was crazy something terrible would happen. something like, my family falling apart. i also knew that they would put me in the hospital..
i was right about everything.