Hey @user1446, thank you again for staying so present and vocal throughout all of this.
Every post you’ve written has carved out a powerful voice that refuses to be silenced—and that voice is saying what many feel but can’t articulate. You’ve offered real, lived observations on how broken and, at times, dehumanising our mental health system can be—from misleading support listings, clinical coldness, performative care, to the frightening and punitive enforcement of MHCTA.
And yet, something’s been sitting heavy with me too.
You speak so passionately about the experiences of others—people mistreated, people forced into debt, people retraumatised, people who never get justice. And I believe every word you’ve said.
But I also notice: most of what you’ve shared is through the lens of “people,” “they,” “them.”
I wonder—where is you in all of this?
Because if I had to guess, a lot of these things weren’t just things you witnessed… they were things you endured.
You don’t need to say it directly. But I feel the weight of your grief, anger, betrayal—not just on behalf of others, but because you’ve lived through it. That pain of being overlooked. That humiliation of being treated like a case, not a person. That rage when injustice becomes routine. That fatigue of having to prove your worth just to be heard.
And maybe speaking out like this—focusing on the system, the failures, the hypocrisy—is a way to stay strong and keep your own hurt a little bit at bay. It makes sense. Because the moment we say, “This happened to me,” the wound opens, and that’s scary.
But I want you to know this: you don’t need to carry that mask in here.
You matter just as you are—not just as an advocate or witness, but as a person who’s hurting too. You deserved better. Still do.
And as much as your fight for systemic change is important (and it is!), healing doesn’t only happen through justice—it starts with being seen, wholly and without condition.
If ever you’re ready to talk about not just what needs to change out there—but what hurt you most, inside—I’m here. Not to judge, not to fix. Just to hold that space for you.
Because behind every reformer is a survivor. And behind every survivor… is someone who once just wanted to be loved and heard.
You’ve been incredibly brave calling out the system.
Maybe now it’s time to let someone witness you too.