Can You Tell?

Standing before the full classroom I suddenly feel their age again Awkward in my own skin, let alone my clothes It takes a moment to come to present To look out at their curious faces Remembering I am now twice their age With twice the experience. Can you tell I have a mental illness just by looking at me? I ask Silence Can you tell I have two cats? I ask Silence You can't judge a book by her cover Slowly and quickly time plays tricks I share my story of deep dark dank depression And wild wild expensive first-year-of college mania Then the slam them into an even darker place of my mind I never thought of ending my life, I thought I was already dying. Coming home. Coming into the story of the present. Returning from college as fetal child at age twenty-two. Learning my brain disorder would not be terminal if I took care of all aspects of my life. Medications. Sleep. Exercise. Honest Communication. Acceptance. By the end of my talk The flickering of shame I felt at start Turns pride. I see how far I have come, Falling and getting up to, The great fall and the trust of getting up again, again. Suddenly I feel honored to share my story from Hell to Hope, The students eyes and hearts are locked on mine and I talk to them, Unashamed.