Seven of them were 14.
One year and one state away from my baby.
I can’t take it.

In the atmosphere of our current situation,
I feel as if I’m always on high alert.
And before one thing can be behind me,
Another thing crashes into reality.
I’m angry,
But I’m tired.

I can’t listen to the debates anymore.
I can’t stand to have one more platitude thrown in my face.
I try to be open, honest, and willing to hear the other side,
But dammit, y’all.
Enough is enough.
I’m angry!
Really Angry.
But I’m tired.

We drag mental illness out like a limp, dying horse
And we beat him until he is no more.
I don’t know this kid.
Maybe he is mentally ill,
But maybe he just angry and broken.
Maybe we – the collective we – broke him over and over again
Until he was beyond repair.
Maybe if he’d had a little more love…
Maybe if he’d had one solid person to be there for him no matter what…
Maybe if he’d had someone to simply say, “You are more than your circumstances.”

Or maybe I’m just making things up to make myself feel better,
To make myself feel like I can say those things and be that person for someone else.
Maybe I’m making this about me when it’s about so much more.

And maybe in trying to help, we’ve lost sight of what matters most.
Maybe all our plans and policies reduced him to sub-human standards.
Maybe we stripped his humanity away one layer at a time
Until it was no more.

Or maybe I’m just projecting my reality into his.
I see it every day.
That one child who bites and kicks and screams.
The one who looks you in the face and tells you that he hates you.
The one who mirrors at school his terrifying truth, his reality.
The one who doesn’t know how to love because he doesn’t know what love is.
I am angry.
And I am tired.
But I must go on.

You can’t save the whole world, they tell me.
And I know that it is true.
But maybe…maybe I can help one.
I may not be able to change what will be,
But I can sure as hell try.
So I have to keep going.
You have to keep going.
We have to do this thing together…
Whether we like it or not.

I’m angry.
And I’m tired.
But I’m willing to try.
Are you?