TW: panic attacks, depression, anxiety, and general talk of mental illness
Artist's Statement
Somehow floating free
Racing forever through an endless steadily shrinking tunnel
Scrabbling for a handhold, anything not out of reach
Split open yet stuck closed, all information clear on the surface and locked away below
Palpitating heart, blurry vision, blood stops, there’s a thought collision
Chemicals rushing to and fro, commands losing all precision
Bottles, bodies, slapped with labels
Cemented to skin, no matter how hard you tug, all that peels is flesh
Stuck to one word for existence, a word that declares everything?
Just because they have anxiety, they don’t have to be agitated, apprehensive, always angsty, always anxious
Just because they have depression, they might not seem downhearted, despondent, dissected
Just because they have autism, they aren’t always antisocial, apathetic, angry, amiss
But they are, and always will be human
Inhuman parasites sprinting through the mind, picking fights, starting wars
The sweet taste of hope tickles the tongue before fleeing the onslaught of bitter desolation
Organs twist in chaos and aching cramps
Running through dark streets, hopelessly lost, phone dead, alone
Begging for a map, a street sign, a guide
Nowhere to be found
A howling, shambling shape races through the towering, murky jungle
Your feet are ensnared in fear, wrapped in thick vines of dread
The semblance creeps closer, stalking its prey
You, the prey, only stiffen in fear, the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up in anticipation, adrenaline pumps through your system, your heart working overtime
Facilities with peeling paint and bars over windows
Promises from the mayor for healing hospitals made and broken time and time again
We are supposed to get better here? In a room even sadder than we are?
Rahm leers over tiny, helpless people, laughs at the pleas
With stolen money spilling out of silk-lined pockets
Promising to help but saying he has no more to spare
Hiding in a luxurious palace erected from the hard-earned cash of the helpless
And there is hope, there is a light at the end of the tunnel
It may be an enduring, decades-long tunnel, but that light will only get brighter and closer
And that tunnel is not always lonely
There are lanterns along the way to chase away the looming shadows
You never have to do it solo
There are hearts who beat along with us, hearts who care
Hearts who understand it can capture us, who know we can all use saving
Like a hunk of metal forged, you will be beat, battered, and bruised, but you will become something even stronger and more beautiful
It is okay to not be okay
Just breathe, breathe, breathe
Artist's Statement
In my previous political justice post, you can see my first draft of this poem. Though my poem covers the same political issues, I have changed a lot. To make sure that every single word has a strong impact, I decided to get rid of the emergency calls stanza. I feel that it didn't have the same significance as the rest of the poem. I added the stanza about being stalked by a dog/wolf creature to emphasize how it feels to have anxiety, and make it more relatable for the reader. At the beginning of the poem, to imitate the start of a panic attack, I start off talking slowly and quietly, then quickly transition to speaking quickly and panicked. To emphasize the line 'but all that will peel is flesh', I start to slow down. I continue my slower pace to list the common stereotypes I've experienced to make it very clear, but I speed up again to go back to describing more of my symptoms. I use the metaphor of a wolf or a dog to try to connect the audience to something much more concrete than a mental illness. I chose the metaphor of a dog because of something I read about Winston Churchill. He used to picture his depression as a big black dog that would stalk him constantly. In the next stanza, I am discussing the current issues between Chicago and our Mayor, Rahm Emanuel, which I discuss in the first part of the Artist's Statement. Then, a large switch happens in the tone of the poem. In the last two stanzas, I am attempting to console those with mental illnesses, confirming that it does get better. I know from experience that when you are feeling that horrible, it is almost impossible to believe people when they tell you it gets better, but, I hope as someone who has been through many years of severe depression and anxiety, it has more impact. Thank you so much for watching.
Artist's Statement
I would like to say first that I am not trying to say this is how all mental illnesses feel, this poem is based on my own personal experiences with specific diseases. The purpose of my poem is to communicate the hardships of having mental illness and to push back against the many, many harmful stereotypes that surround mental health. Politically, though, I discuss very specific issues to where I live, Chicago. Chicago has long been overdue for new and redone mental health hospitals and insurance policies, and have been promised by the Mayor, Rahm Emanuel for years. He has even received money from various medical companies and non-profits, yet we have not seen any differences in the government-operated facilities in the city or the county. I want to share a message of hope along with this poem to help others like me, who have been through or are still going through mental distress.
You're MentalSomehow floating free
Racing forever through an endless steadily shrinking tunnel
Scrabbling for a handhold, anything not out of reach
Split open yet stuck closed, all information clear on the surface and locked away below
Palpitating heart, blurry vision, blood stops, there’s a thought collision
Chemicals rushing to and fro, commands losing all precision
Bottles, bodies, slapped with labels
Cemented to skin, no matter how hard you tug, all that peels is flesh
Stuck to one word for existence, a word that declares everything?
Just because they have anxiety, they don’t have to be agitated, apprehensive, always angsty, always anxious
Just because they have depression, they might not seem downhearted, despondent, dissected
Just because they have autism, they aren’t always antisocial, apathetic, angry, amiss
But they are, and always will be human
Inhuman parasites sprinting through the mind, picking fights, starting wars
The sweet taste of hope tickles the tongue before fleeing the onslaught of bitter desolation
Organs twist in chaos and aching cramps
Running through dark streets, hopelessly lost, phone dead, alone
Begging for a map, a street sign, a guide
Nowhere to be found
A howling, shambling shape races through the towering, murky jungle
Your feet are ensnared in fear, wrapped in thick vines of dread
The semblance creeps closer, stalking its prey
You, the prey, only stiffen in fear, the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up in anticipation, adrenaline pumps through your system, your heart working overtime
Facilities with peeling paint and bars over windows
Promises from the mayor for healing hospitals made and broken time and time again
We are supposed to get better here? In a room even sadder than we are?
Rahm leers over tiny, helpless people, laughs at the pleas
With stolen money spilling out of silk-lined pockets
Promising to help but saying he has no more to spare
Hiding in a luxurious palace erected from the hard-earned cash of the helpless
And there is hope, there is a light at the end of the tunnel
It may be an enduring, decades-long tunnel, but that light will only get brighter and closer
And that tunnel is not always lonely
There are lanterns along the way to chase away the looming shadows
You never have to do it solo
There are hearts who beat along with us, hearts who care
Hearts who understand it can capture us, who know we can all use saving
Like a hunk of metal forged, you will be beat, battered, and bruised, but you will become something even stronger and more beautiful
It is okay to not be okay
Just breathe, breathe, breathe
 |
| You Are Not Alone, HealthlyPlace.org (2013) |
Artist's Statement
In my previous political justice post, you can see my first draft of this poem. Though my poem covers the same political issues, I have changed a lot. To make sure that every single word has a strong impact, I decided to get rid of the emergency calls stanza. I feel that it didn't have the same significance as the rest of the poem. I added the stanza about being stalked by a dog/wolf creature to emphasize how it feels to have anxiety, and make it more relatable for the reader. At the beginning of the poem, to imitate the start of a panic attack, I start off talking slowly and quietly, then quickly transition to speaking quickly and panicked. To emphasize the line 'but all that will peel is flesh', I start to slow down. I continue my slower pace to list the common stereotypes I've experienced to make it very clear, but I speed up again to go back to describing more of my symptoms. I use the metaphor of a wolf or a dog to try to connect the audience to something much more concrete than a mental illness. I chose the metaphor of a dog because of something I read about Winston Churchill. He used to picture his depression as a big black dog that would stalk him constantly. In the next stanza, I am discussing the current issues between Chicago and our Mayor, Rahm Emanuel, which I discuss in the first part of the Artist's Statement. Then, a large switch happens in the tone of the poem. In the last two stanzas, I am attempting to console those with mental illnesses, confirming that it does get better. I know from experience that when you are feeling that horrible, it is almost impossible to believe people when they tell you it gets better, but, I hope as someone who has been through many years of severe depression and anxiety, it has more impact. Thank you so much for watching.
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