We all remember the old rhyme about sticks and stones… it’s followed by something about how words will never hurt us. But just like the pen is mightier than the sword, words carry the power to tear a person down or build him up.
Words make kings of men and men of gods. Words can kill, maim and injure. The war on terror is a losing battle because we are all given a weapon of mass destruction at birth. One look at the news and you can see how words kill people, not just in America but all over the world. The right words can save a life or end it.
But we never fight the war on terror when it comes to that. No we shame the victims of it instead. You’re depressed, here’s a pill. You can’t focus, here’s a pill. You have the attention span of a 4 year old and you’re already 48 months old here’s a pill.
Of course you gladly take the pill, oh you want the relief it promises, the shiny wrapper giving you hopes of better days than past. That bottle filled with tiny capsules full of sunshine to end the darkness.
They don’t tell you it’s a game, medication roulette. Like playing Russian roulette with all but one chamber loaded. Then the side effects come, suddenly you don’t care anymore. Things don’t seem important so you just sit on the couch until the day ends and you go to bed then repeat. Why not, that isn’t so bad.
Of course taking medication is like being gay. You shouldn’t be shamed for either yet we are, stuck in the closet like it’s a choice to be this way. Like tomorrow if you just wake up with happy thoughts that will be the end of it all! Of course, when that doesn’t work you aren’t trying hard enough.
Then you turn to the pills. You want this pill, well we are going to make you feel bad for wanting it. Like giving a obese person cake then making fun of them for taking it. Trauma changes us, you can actually see it on a CT scan, visible changes to the brain pre PTSD and post. A permanent physical change to who you are.
Words, they stick around, ugly, fat, scrawny, it shapes your life. You start to see what they want you to see and less of what is really there. But no one stops the bully. They just ‘take care’ of the bullied.
Kids will be kids, the aftermath of which you deal with as an adult. When did childhood become a war just to come out normal and why is it that the people who aren’t so lucky have to try to work so hard just to fake ‘normal’ which is where we should pretty much start from at birth.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease or so they say. Well if that is true then the broken person gets the pill. So you hope that it will somehow pick up the pieces of you and put you back together.You hope beyond hope because you are tired of being broken, tired of not being a whole person, tired of wearing a mask, just… tired.
Meanwhile, you are left wondering why when you were born they didn’t just include in the instruction manual:
Some assembly required