I am not myself
Dear Editor: My niece, who suffers from a mental illness, lives life on the streets of an Alberta city for the most part. We, her family, keep contact and supply our love, and strive to support her in positive ways. We have had some successes; however, these are followed quite often by relapses. We carry on and we receive guidance from the mental health organizations in her part of the province. We are thankful for that.
Someone told me that the focus this year of mental health agencies has been “I am not myself”. I thought that that was an excellent description of the situation that my niece has faced most of her life. As I was thinking about her today, I thought I’d try to express this thought as she must have understood it.
I felt that this knowledge , “I am not myself,” must have occupied all of her senses. I send along my results with thanks from our family to all those wonderful individuals, and to those organizations whose mission is to provide support and to show compassion for those struggling with mental illness.
My niece is a warm, caring, delightful women who must deal with her reality daily. I Am Not Myself (story of a niece) I remember when I realized I just was not like others I couldn’t deal with reality Like my sisters and my brother There were voices deep inside of me
That were completely illadvised I would behave erratically I raged, I ranted, I lied I knew I had to change my ways I knew I must conform I realized that I had to Determine what’s the norm Growing up was a huge ordeal A time of misery My teachers, friends, and family Searched for the real me I finally saw a doctor Who prescribed a magic pill He reluctantly advised me I might be mentally ill I took the medication Though it made me quite fatigued I had no aspirations No desire to succeed I then found my salvation It helped me get on track A friend had introduced me To the advantages of crack I walk the streets and contemplate Where I can find a fix I steal, I beg, and I beseech Perhaps I could turn tricks I’ve lost friends, my family Each day I strive to fend Even when my father died I failed to attend So what will now become of me The future’s somewhat bleak I know that I am not myself I must carry on and seek Jim Jenkins
Kelowna