Hey Loves,

Old Myrtle wants to drop some hot, fresh wisdom sauce on the table for you to lick up today. Because it’s Mental Health Awareness month and that shit is near and dear to my heart.  I’ve been thinking a lot about all you misfits with broken hearts out there and I want to talk to you, but first, this for anyone else:

Here’s the dealio. If you meet a spicy little wild thing and hit it off, get her to open her heart and spill her dark secrets, many of which have to do with a lifetime of mental illness, here’s a tip. Don’t be a dick. This day and age, most people have no excuse. We live in an age of information and so it shouldn’t be too hard to dig deep and find some empathy. If you’re a narcissist, you’ll likely not be reading this anyway so yeah, there are people who will never get it even if you smack them with a big ol fish five times a day and yell at them to wake the fuck up.

But most people possess a brain and an understanding. There are lots of smart people out there who have somewhat healthy patterns and relationships. But every once in awhile slip up into dick mode.

This is usually hard for most people. But for someone with a history of mental illness, it can be a clusterfuck to deal with the aftermath. They don’t forget your words. They don’t forget the lack of closure. They will take your silence and refusal to accept their apology so much to heart that it will wreck them for literally years.

I think there is a special place in hell for people who do dick things to people they know are mentally ill and have a history of trauma and abuse. I will fight you on this.

I’m usually fairly understanding, so don’t get me wrong. I know all the cute little thoughts out there about how people can only love you where they are at. And sure. That applies. But there is just too much dickery running rampant out there. I’m also not saying that you should be all tight and BFF with someone JUST because they’re mentally ill. But they’re not idiots. If you need to leave the relationship, just fucking put your big britches on and be honest. Close that deal out. Don’t leave people hanging. And don’t say dick things to them because “you’re an asshole and you can’t help it.”

That’s not cool.

Be aware. Be kind. And don’t promise things you can’t make good on.

To those of you who have been broken by said dicks: please know it wasn’t you. It wasn’t because you are just too much or too little or too weird or wrong to be loved. This is literally their shit to deal with. Mentally ill or not, we all deal with dick people in life. But if there’s any way this old bird can reassure you that it wasn’t your fault for being a little too human, I would. Please stay. Exist. Do the best you can. Don’t lose faith in all humans. Keep a weather eye on anyone who feels wrong or feels like a drug. That’s not love. Even if it seems like they have an army of worshippers. That doesn’t mean a god damn thing. Your experience matters. Your life matters. You are valid.

Love is supportive. And expansive. And makes you feel like you are a free bird on rollerskates soaring like a bad ass motherfucker.

Look for those people. Cherish them. Squeeze them and make them cookies.

And always, always look out for yourself because you really owe no one shit. Stop laying down and taking the beating even after it’s over. You’re amazing and we need you.

Love,

Myrtle