mental health awareness

#MentalHealthAwareness

I never learned how to be a friend in the way people expect.

So I give things.

Little offerings.

Snacks, coffee, books, a plant,

pieces of myself wrapped in gestures of care.

I do it without thinking. It’s the language my heart learned before words.

I thought kindness was the language of belonging.

I thought if I gave enough, maybe someone would open a window,

just a crack,

and let me in.

But they didn’t.

They took the gifts.

They smiled, said thank you,

and left me standing outside,

hands still full of love I didn’t know how to spend.

Later, I heard the laughter.

My name, my awkwardness,

the way I tried too hard, cared too loudly, loved too obviously.

They called it strange.

They called it unnatural.

But I was never cruel.

I was never false.

And if you’re like me,

if you love too visibly,

if you hand people pieces of your heart hoping they’ll understand,

please, listen.

You don’t need to trade your warmth for entry.

You don’t need to prove you’re worthy of care.

People will take what they don’t understand,

and they will call it too much.

Protect your warmth.

Guard it like a small fire cupped in your palms.

Let it burn for you first,

and for those who meet you gently.

The right ones won’t take it.

They’ll sit beside you, quietly,

and glow with you.

#Autism #ADHD #AutismAcceptance #adhdawareness #Neurodiversity #Masking #unmasking #MentalHealthAwareness #youareenough #pebbling

There are languages made of words,

and others made of nearness.

I’ve learned to translate books,

but not people

not the soft grammar of belonging,

not the pauses that mean I see you.

I practice kindness like a foreign tongue,

phrases under my breath,

intonations rehearsed in the mirror

until they almost sound like me.

I carry a library of gestures in my chest:

how long to hold an eye,

how wide to shape a smile,

how to time a nod so it lands softly,

not too soon, not too late

a choreography invisible to everyone

but the trembling pulse behind my ribs.

Each moment out there

is a tightrope between reaching and retreat,

between the comfort of silence

and the ache of wanting to be seen.

I offer a smile into the static of the world

a small, bright signal

that might or might not find a receiver.

Sometimes it vanishes midair,

and I tell myself that’s okay.

That I am still real

even when no one reflects me back.

So I breathe,

rewrite the line,

and float forward again

a quiet satellite in a noisy sky,

learning that orbiting kindly

is its own form of fluency.

And maybe, somewhere beyond the glare,

there are others who drift like me

who speak in pauses and soft misfires,

who send their light in uncertain directions

but still hope

to find each other in the dark,

and make the spinning

a little less lonely.

#Autism #ADHD , #Loneliness #Connection #MentalHealthAwareness #Poetry “If you orbit like me, I hope this finds you."

My husband and I went to Saint Martin for our honeymoon. It was amazing. I have a core memory from that vacation long ago that I often now use as, what I think, is a perfect metaphor for the extreme treatment resistant depression that I struggle with.
Every afternoon we would go swimming in the beautiful blue ocean. Now, while my husband is a very strong swimmer...I am not....at all! Time and time again, I would find myself swept up towards the shore by the strong waves. All I could really do was sit there while the relentless waves crashed upon me one right after another. Every time I tried to stand up, another wave would come and knock me right back down. I could not get my footing to save my life! And every time, my amazing new hubby would come over, hold out his hand, and help me stand again. We always enjoyed a good laugh about it back then.
Well, here we are, 23 years later, and I once again find myself constantly being knocked off my feet, unable to stand by myself...only this time, the waves are dark, scary, stormy waves. And they're 1000 times bigger than before. And they're crashing so fast that even though my still amazing hubby is trying with all his might to help me up, even he is no match for these waves. It's like they've come for my life and they're not leaving until they get it. Of course, these waves are...depression. #Depression #MentalHealth #depressionawareness #MentalHealthAwareness #mentalhealthmatters #MightyTogether

I just finished reading Know My Name by Chanel Miller, and I’m still sitting with everything it stirred up. This memoir is a powerful, unflinching account of Miller’s experience as the victim in the high-profile Stanford sexual assault case, and her journey of reclaiming her identity, voice, and sense of self in a world that so often tries to silence survivors.

What struck me most is how Miller goes beyond the courtroom and headlines. She explores trauma, healing, anger, art, and resilience in ways that are deeply human and relatable, especially for anyone who has ever felt unseen or unheard. Her writing is sharp, poetic, and quietly devastating.

If you've ever felt like your story was dismissed or erased, this book might help you feel a little more understood, and a little less alone. Has anyone else here read it? I'd love to hear your thoughts or how it resonated with you.

#TraumaRecovery #SurvivorsOfSexualAssault #MentalHealthAwareness #BooksThatHeal #KnowMyName #TheMighty