Story Management
Review and approve community stories
Hana, 38, Female
The Darkness of a Silent Genocide
In general, when people talk about mental health or you see something on the media it's mainly something soft and washed. Walk in the park, go to yoga, meditate, etc etc. Not that these things don't matter but they are there while people like me are kept in the dark. Society doesn't wanna see us because they fear us, they despise us, they're disgusted by us. We are the ones who will sleep on the streets, who will smell badly, who will be homeless, who will scream in fury, who will talk to the wind, who will listen to the walls, who will see things in the corners. A story like mine is what I needed to see for so long. I'm not an activist. I don't wanna be. I just know how desperate people like me are. I want this post to go viral so I can reach the people who are homeless. I want young people who have some consciousness to get their phones and show them that. I've being constrained so many times for screaming in terror. Only people who go through psychosis understand how terrifying it can be. Nobody wants to know about us. We are the mad ones, no use to society. I just hope my message can reach someone who really needs. Thank you.
Mayuk, 16, Male
Surviving Thirteen
On the cusp of summer vacation following my 7th-grade year, I eagerly anticipated the freedom it promised. With plans for enriching activities, I looked forward to fun and personal growth as I prepared to enter 8th grade. However, my excitement was abruptly halted when my dad insisted on a visit to the pediatrician due to a persistent low-grade fever. What began as a routine check-up swiftly spiraled into a life-altering ordeal. Concerns over a murmur in my heart landed me in the emergency room, where a cascade of tests and anxious waiting ensued. Amidst the blur of medical jargon and sterile surroundings, the gravity of the situation began to dawn on me: a potential diagnosis of leukemia or aplastic anemia loomed ominously. I rushed to the ICU for a critical blood transfusion, and the reality of my condition struck with unfathomable force. Days later, the definitive diagnosis of AML sent shockwaves through my already fragile psyche. How could someone seemingly healthy like me be plunged into the throes of such a dire illness? The abruptness of it all left me reeling, grappling with fear and disbelief for the first time in my young life. Treatment commenced promptly, unleashing a torrent of debilitating side effects. Nausea and fatigue became unwelcome companions, but it was the unexpected toll on my eyesight that plunged me into a new realm of suffering. Rendered temporarily blind by chemotherapy-induced crystals, I found solace in the strains of familiar melodies, a lifeline amidst the darkness. Amidst the relentless onslaught of medical interventions, the nightmarish episode of a severe allergic reaction during a routine platelet transfusion was the most traumatic experience of my life. Gasping for breath as hives spread through my body, I grappled with the terror of suffocation. Though medical intervention quelled the immediate danger, the psychological scars lingered, haunting my every breath. Each moment of respite outside the confines of the hospital became a cherished reprieve. Enduring rounds of chemotherapy and ultimately undergoing a bone marrow transplant marked the culmination of my arduous journey. Gradually, physical strength returned, a testament to resilience in the face of adversity. Though fraught with darkness, my journey serves as a beacon of hope, a reminder of the human spirit’s capacity for endurance and renewal. I hope my story inspires you and gives you the strength you need.