"The Rules of Being Mentally Ill", By Alex Coleman
- alombardi16
- Apr 22
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 19

One: You are first and foremost a cacophony, a swirling dissonance of emotions and sounds, a type of chaos the outside world will struggle to understand.
Two: This is a hurricane, a whirlwind, a storm. You are at the center of an upheaval.
Learn to become a pluviophile. Relish the raindrops as they beat against your body.
If they draw blood, it’s because the human skin is fragile, but there is quiet strength in being
broken. We all carry the marks of a storm that was nearly stronger than we were.
Three: The quiet will become an oasis and a battle ground.
Your tired soul will long for the solace, but the mind seeks to fill empty spaces with thoughts
that carry weapons.
The quiet is where the smoke settles and lungs fill with your own debris.
Make peace with the quiet.
Healing is an ebb and flow of screaming and silence.
Four: You are not alone.
It is the greatest endeavor of the mentally ill mind to convince you that you are too foreign to be human, that your pain is incomprehensible and untouchable.
It is natural to feel tainted and lonely, to feel isolated on planet You with population one.
Do not let your mind tell you that your suffering is unique.
Draw strength from the fact that your pain is human and shared.
Five: Nighttime is often the most trying.
Darkness will pull your weary head under for much needed sleep, or it may float you to a sea of blackened awareness.
Rest in these moments.
Do not do battle with demons between the hours of midnight and six.
Let this otherwise lonely time become your respite from the diligence of your daily struggle.
Six: Mental Illness is designed to hurt.
I cannot tell you otherwise.
Your misbehaving neurotransmitters may seem to wreak havoc on other areas of the body, may make even breathing a difficult concept.
Hold on with both hands to the part of you that knows oxygen, life, is a human right.
Reach for others that they can keep you buoyant.
Know that this pain is inevitable but it’s not unending.
All storms must eventually break, and reprieve may be distant, but it’s not forsaken.
Seven: This pain is so raw it’s difficult to conceive that a neon sign of your struggle does not
float above your head.
This, however, is an invisible illness.
Do not assume that those around you know you are suffering.
You must call in the cavalry with your own vocal cry for help.
Let the words bring others into this fight.
Scream if you must until the world hears you.
Eight: Your creativity will guide you.
Revisit the piece of your soul that refuses to be crushed.
Give life to your inner experience through your body.
Pour out the grief and the lessons until you have your own personal library.
Your inner experience means something.
Hold on to the part that creates.
It is often the soft spot in a world of hard edges.
Nine: Switchbacks are an inherent part of this climb.
It is normal to feel you are headed in the wrong direction.
Falling over one’s own feet and losing the way are inevitable.
This does not mean ‘stop.’
It means evaluate and continue.
Sometimes you may feel blind or inept or that anything more is unattainable.
It is not the end or a signal to give up.
Sweat is the sign that you are capable, while doubt makes you human.
A difficult trail doesn’t indicate you’re unworthy.
Don’t let missteps halt your journey.
Ten: The very nature of Mental Illness is that the exit sign may be tempting.
It will flash and entice you to walk out the door and leave the suffering behind, but suffering is unruly and has the tendency to spread unwanted.
Do not let false promises sway you from continuing your fight.
Do not let your demons tell you it’s not worth it.
Sometimes the hardest, bravest, strongest thing one can do is:
STAY.
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