The Curing Jars

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Day 346:

People like me used to be hidden in society, not placed in jars for everyone to scorn.

I am of the mentally ill. We’re an ‘entertaining breed’ to the rest of society. We are the depressed, the suicidal, the anorexic, the bulimic, the schizophrenic, the bingers, the bi-polar, the list goes on for pages and pages. We are the mentally ill.

In our current society, mental illnesses are seen as disabilities; but instead of helping us, They put us in jars until we either die or get better.

They don’t care what the outcome is.

They take no precautions in what They give us when we’re dumped into the ‘curing jars.’ They’ll give scissors and sharpeners to those who were placed into the jars due to blood-loss related suicide attempts.

I see so many deaths.

Every morning, I wake and see at least one person like me dead at the bottom of their jar. They come and just remove the body before placing in a new one of us.

The newbies are always eager to get out, or make friends with the rest of us. I see the newbies bang against the glass with their fists trying to get the rest of our attention, but none of us do anything. Eventually, the newbie either dies or becomes like the rest of us, silent and sad.

They lose their voice sooner or later, and you can tell when they lose their voice. The newbies shudder and shake as they cry, they try screaming as the pain consumes them, but no sound comes out.

It’s disturbing seeing them cry and struggle with nothing but silence emerging from their mouths.

Why don’t I try and comfort them even though I see their struggle? Because I’ve learnt my place in our society, and they’ve yet to learn theirs.

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