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This is one the sweetest, most poignant poems I have ever heard. It goes straight to the heart. A very astute and talented girl. Warm hugs! ~ Trabue
Dear mother,
do you not see the scratches upon my skin,
the recurring white lines up and down my arms?
or do you just choose to ignore, thinking that I will be okay.
Dear mother,
do you not see my tear stained cheeks,
the puffy eyes and running nose?
or do you really not hear my silent...
According to the accepted legal standard, the point at which they are required to do something is only when you are a danger to yourself or to someone else. And at that point they have the right to treat you however they wish and against your will. But then sometimes when this point is reached it is sadly too late for this to even matter. The standard needs to be lowered. Actually, the whole mental health system needs to be revamped and better funded.
The thing that sucks about mental illness is that if you aren’t depressed enough, suicidal enough, bad enough, nobody cares. Nobody cares until you reach their standard, and that standard is when your problem is bad enough to effect them