To see the day when having a mental illness is treated like the manageable condition that it is, when it is met with warmth and light instead of pushed into the darkness, when people don't die by suicide anymore, and the world is a softer place for all of us.


Really, though, to see the day where nobody has to feel like crap about anything.  
Not just mental illness. I mean feeling like crap about anything.
Where our gut reflex is just to love people, and to start with that.
Where "we're all doing the best we can" and "we all have blind spots"
are automatic thoughts.
Where every community is overwhelmingly supportive of any kind of struggle or hard thing.
Where we don't have to keep our hard things in the dark anymore.

And whether I'll live long enough to see those days isn't promised to me — but it doesn't matter.

Because either way, I will fight with my whole big and beating heart and with my soul all filled up with "yes!" and "let's go!" and gumption, and every other fiber in my being. And I will do that by trying to love people a little better myself, day by day. And I will do it in my community and school and city, and as a daughter and friend and a mama one day, to friends and to strangers. And I will keep telling my stories and I'll keep telling other people to tell their stories until my big heart is all done and tired and loses its voice and uses everything God gave it. And He'll be so happy He can barely stand it because that's exactly what He designed me and my big heart to do.

That's my promise to you and to my children and your children and the whole dang world.

So, that’s what I do.
It's a lot. I don't know if I'll get to it all.
But who in the world am I not to try? 

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