I was still like a child in ways. What was happening bewildered me. I had developed strong bonds with those who had showed me love. Like a child clinging to her parents, I could not let go.

Only after thousands of dollars’ worth of psychotherapy did I learn to recognize the truth about what happened.

When I started this series, I wanted to find peace and healing from what I had been through. I wanted to build an understanding about what discrimination can mean in the life of a person with mental illness. I wanted to apply what I was learning from DBT—to use radical acceptance when looking at injustices dealt to me. That is, looking at the pain and what happened without judging—letting God judge instead. Acknowledging and accepting it, then moving on.

I must say, when I came to the point where I now am in the telling, it became a little harder to do so. I do hope though, that after this writing I won’t be left with the same degree of anger I once had. Perhaps there will be less visits to the emergency room.

But the kind of injustices that you’ve seen happen to me should never be accepted. Yes, God will judge. But I don’t believe he calls those who serve him to simply sit back, acknowledge that it happened, and move on. God calls us to join with him in working to reduce discrimination so that fewer individuals will have to suffer the way I did.

Changes need to be made in how people with mental health issues are regarded. Even if they happen to have annoying behavior like I did, we must not forget that they are human. They have feelings. They need love. They need to know they are welcome in the community. We need to help them feel they belong.

This series of writings is my effort to create change. I believe God had a part in helping these words come together. I’m praying that they will help understanding grow.