Lennon

It's a touchy subject, but somebody has to say something.  Well, I guess, everybody has something to say about it, but I suppose I want to share too. 

Different from the younger me, I don't heed every opportunity I'm given to spout off my opinion about each and every political and social news trend.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm very passionate, and very opinionated, but I no longer think I'm going to be, nor do I want to be the first woman president.  My college major is no longer political science.  In fact, I've quieted down immensely since my twenties.  I guess, now, I'd prefer to make a difference from the inside.

I knew I wanted to take psychology classes in college from a very early age.  The first class I enrolled in, in fact, was Psychology 100 while I was still in high school.  Not only was it kind of interesting, I was able to hang out late with the friend who signed up with me and skate from school to Starbucks, and back at intermission.  It was a blast.  Of course, I only really wanted to find out what the hell was wrong with me.  I got an A.

I continued to take psychology courses, in order, throughout my schooling, while I dabbled with other interests, until last year when I studied life span and children's psychology.  I learned things I never even realized I wondered.  And then, I realized my destiny. 

Dun dun dun!

So as things like Columbine and 911 and Virginia Tech started happening, I had all kinds of questions.  Early in my Psych studies, my questions were like, "What is alcoholism, and how can someone choose that over family."  As these tragedies were occurring, I was really trying to understand how and why someone could commit such a heinous act.

The beginning of fall semester last year, I began learning all the answers to all of the questions I had.  I'd enrolled in Abnormal Psychology.  This is where I learned that not everyone is logical.  Not everyone is sane.  And not everyone is educated.

There is more to know about mental illness than I would have ever guessed a year and a half ago.  More than most people even spend time wondering about.  And I have been on a mission to help with the education of my peers; through volunteering with NAMI (the National Alliance for Mental Illness) as well as trying to really illustrate some of my own personal experiences in my blog.  Unfortunately, I have no sway.  No persuasion.  No celebrity.  I'm lucky to have somebody question what a mental illness actually is.

But mental illness is serious.  It is real.  Mental illness can easily own a gun legally.  Or at least, get it's hand on one.  Mental illness is uncomfortable when its not understood, and we, as children make fun or bully, while we, as adults, avoid it, excuse it, or displace it.  Instead we place the blame for suicides and murders on the weapon, so we never have to look inward and deal with a nationwide, hell, world wide epidemic.  There are literally thousands of pro-suicide websites on the internet ranging from pro-anorexia all the way to DIY suicides. 

Mental illness is just that.  Mental.  Illness.  You know how you have no control over your coughing and sneezing and vomiting when you have the flu?  You know how you can't time out the "sickness" part of morning sickness?  You know how you can't just choose not to have a nose bleed?  Its exactly the same thing.  It's hard to understand.  It's hard to control (if not impossible), and it's hard to fix.

My hope is that people will want to understand.  Not just hate.  Not just grieve.  But really try to understand.  Mental illness stems from our genes; from our processed food intake; from our prescriptive medication taken for the problems that stem from our processed food intake.  Mental illness is misunderstood, and if one person just got to one person, we'd have a world of change on our hands. 

Therefore, in the sadness and grievance I feel for all of those children lost on December 14, 2012, as well as their caretakers and leaders, I can honestly say, I blame the mental illness.  That of the mother, who felt it necessary to own any type of automatic weapon, especially while her diagnosed mentally ill adult child lived with her, down to the person who carried out the crime.  And while I sit here and type, I regurgitate the anger and sadness I felt that day over and over again.

Change needs to happen.  Whether it be the ban on selling semi-to-automatic weapon ammo, to the ban on the weapons themselves, to the extent needed for society to somewhat accept the reality of mental illness.  I truly hope this is the last of this type of violence I see in my lifetime, and I pray those children and teachers have an amazing Christmas with God.

The acts of this life are the destiny of the next.
Eastern Proverb