More Sticks and Stones by Susan L.

It grieved my heart when a friend of mine told me about a woman who had commented about the Krasman Centre in Alliston,"It's that place where troubled people go." I have heard worse, "crazy" or "Oh, THAT place" was uttered with a derogatory snigger. Worse was the fear and desperate scramble to get away from me. Apparently because I go to the Centre I am either contagious or violent. We can thank imaginary shows like CSI, Law and Order or Criminal Minds for that particular wisdom. Ignorance is a powerful tool of the devil. I can't begin to tell you of the monumental courage it takes to walk in the front door for the first time. That initial step speaks volumes and in my case four years ago was my way of saying,"I can't do this alone. I am afraid to be alone. I am lost and confused and need some help." My welcome was warm. It didn't matter that at that time I could barely string together a cohesive sentence because my mind was so befuddled. It didn't matter that I'd been recently diagnosed with Depression AND Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A complete shock to me. It didn't matter that I had just been discharged from a mental health facility. Yet another horribly traumatic event to have gone through. What did matter was the fact that I was a living, breathing human being of unknown worth. Within the walls of the Centre I have been blessed a thousand fold by the incredible generosity and kindness of all who go there. Those who have nothing give of themselves. One last thing for today, names and labels do hurt. I've had to repent of the names I called myself following my first hospitalization. Names such as weak, useless, freak, failure. I ask myself the question, where did those ideas come from? "But all things that are exposed are made manifest (to be wrestled) by the light; for whatever makes manifest (the wrestler) is light." Eph 5:13