Poetry
The Strong One - II
A poem about the negative effects of being labeled strong
What happens when you can no longer be the strong one?
When everything you’ve fought for is slowly coming undone?
What happens when your silent cries for help suddenly become loud?
In your weakest moments are you still able to be proud?
When the one everyone else has always depended on finally breaks
Does she become the one everyone else now forsakes?
Who picks her up when she eventually falls down?
Who does she turn to when no one else is around?
If no one is there to see her fall
Did it even happen at all?
And when she picks herself back up because no one else was there
Does she carry on the same, now knowing they really don’t care?
Or does she give in to the bitter reality
That everyone else knew but chose to ignore her fragility?
I’ve always been referred to as strong. I’ve had numerous people tell me they admire me or look up to me, even people who are older than me. And even when they explain to me why, I still don’t understand. I guess it’s difficult to see yourself through other people’s eyes, especially when you know you’re completely broken inside. When you’ve fallen apart and put yourself together again so many times, you’re having trouble keeping it together at all.
But everyone in your circle now looks at you as the strong one who can handle anything that comes your way so they don’t really check on you. And you don’t want to ruin their perception of you or (God forbid) appear as weak by telling them the truth. So you continue the façade. And fall apart and put yourself back together in silence again and again and carry on. Until you finally reach that one breaking point where you can’t anymore.
You’re not alone. You don’t have to be alone. Remind yourself of that. Let yourself reach out. Let yourself heal. It takes time. Most of us didn’t fall apart overnight. It was likely a series of events, a build-up. I’ve been working on it my whole life. And I’m still not healed. I still fall apart. Sometimes it takes days to pull myself out. I’m still learning how to reach out and not try to do everything on my own. I’m stubborn so it’s taking me a while. But I’m still trying. And I’m still here.
*********** END THE MENTAL HEALTH STIGMA ************