Mentally Unstable

The Problem

By Zaina Starr

I’m alive, I’m almost dead.

I’m a living person, who died and left to live death over, ariat, till my physical death.

Pain, suffering, depression, anxiety, everyday, is a battle of not knowing what to do, or even what I need to do.

I feel very unintelligent, like I’ve just realized that I’m mentally handicapped.

I don’t know how to care for myself anymore. I don’t know how to live my life like in adults should; how I used to live.

All I want or need is someone to be a friend anytime, possibly more like a parent raising a child, is the best way to describe my needs for someone in my life.

I’m frightened everyday without some someone to give me instructions for that day. It’s like a computer that has to be given commands, every day, all day.

That’s the best way I know to describe my handicap in a way that people understand.

I don’t know the name of my disorder or disease, or even, if it has a name.

I just know it’s causing me to be dysfunctional and society and putting stress on all my relationships.

All my relationships are a daily battle to keep together anymore.

Everyone despises me, frown upon me, looking at me as if I’m below their level in society; a scumbag, a slave, a nuisance, also known as the problem.

I’m now known as the problem and it all started the day I became mentally unstable, handicap.