I sit in the back, in the background, in all black. I'm not hiding, not from you, nor them, nor God, nor Allah, nor any Higher Power, just from myself, me, moi. I wear the black to be avoided, to avoid you, to be ignored, hopefully. My hat, my sunglasses, my coat, my stare to the ground, if our eyes don't meet, if I don't see you speak, I don't exist. 

I hear what is said. I read what is written. I know what is thought, surmised, concluded. They say it is bad, wrong, sad, a sin, and only those unworthy are the true receivers, the true witnesses, and the truly guilty. Any blood spilt, literally or figuratively, it is deserved, it is somehow earned. The whispers are deafening. The glares are blinding. The rumors paralyzing. 

So, I sit down low, out of the light, out of your way, in the corner, quietly, unassuming, accepting of my fate. I sit in your ignorance of innocence. I sit in your shadow of shame. As the darkness is cast, harassing away the light, I take my assigned seat. You the judge, you the jury, you have condemned me, and all I must do is wait. But I must wait with acquiescence. To speak up, or out, to ask why or why not, to stand up, to walk out, to walk away, to seek forgiveness when I am innocent, I can not do, I am not allowed to speak up, out, near you or to you. And..I will not, ever! 

I choose to own your shame, and wear it like a badge. I will bear your cross, I will answer when you do not. I will walk the line, that line, the fine line. 

Your shame, which I am cursed to carry, is only a symptom of your ignorance. For you are unwilling to see me, beyond the labels, beyond the assumptions, beyond the rumors, beyond the hysterics. The human form of monster is what you see when you see me. Somehow broken, damaged, missing parts, unable to function, or participate, I am secretly banished, hushed away. I am your guilty little secret. 

Since the decision was made before I was even a thought, before I existed, I have no say, no voice, no opinion, and no rights. Wrong! I have the right to accept your label, wear it with pride, out in front, for the world to see. Shock and awe! I will gladly own your shame, carry your burden, so that you can be at peace, blissful. I will be society's dirty little hush-hush secret. 

But know this, I am keeping score. If I don't come-a-calling, if I don't send you the bill, the custodian after me surely will. Because I give you the gift of being shame-free, I too am shame-free. I am too full, no spare room for any of my own shame. No time to contemplate my own wrongs and rights, the only guilt I feel is yours. You Are Welcome, and Thank You.

Elizabeth Tustison, Dec 7,2017

Diagnosed with a mental illness in 1990.