I raise my half-empty glass to those who struggle for mental health every day of their lives. To those people breathing into paper bags and pillows to stave off panic attacks. To people who hide behind sagging, stained draperies and refuse to respond to doorbells and who never answer their phones. To people, who find other people's constant cheerfulness overwhelming. To people who hope to get cancer and die before they kill themselves.
I raise my glass to those who can't stop crying, who hear voices and see visions. To people who cut themselves, because physical pain is preferable to psychic pain. To people who feel guilty and perpetually responsible for everything and everyone. To the masses of abused and broken souls who cannot forget. To people who cannot stop counting, washing their hands, avoiding cracks in the sidewalk, and who cannot stop thinking of death. To people who sleep all day and wander at night.
I raise my glass to the criminally insane, the paranoid, to the angry, the aggressive, the fear mongers, the manipulators, the unforgiven and the addicts.
It's May, people. It's your month!