When you look around, all you see are burned-out souls, individuals moving from one place to another, or people falling through the cracks completely. individuals talk about recovery and mental health support as if those things are truly happening here.
I have experienced it. I’ve pleaded for assistance. I’ve explored every resource available in this city. The majority of what is supplied isn’t helpful, let me tell you. It’s a show. Smiles that are empty. buzzwords. cold policies. Not much humanity, but a lot of paperwork.
They put the word “support” on the door, but as soon as you need it, you quickly discover:
- If your trauma doesn t fit their box, you re too complicated.
- If you miss an appointment, you re dropped.
- If you push for accountability, you re labeled a problem.
- If you relapse or spiral, you re treated like a waste of time.
Tell me, how is anyone expected to recover in a system designed to penalize illness?
Quincy takes great pride in providing services, however most of those locations are actually companies rather than healing institutions that operate behind closed doors. They are more concerned with their next meeting, their funds, and their reputation than they are with the people who come in pleading for assistance.
And we’re out here barely making it while they get paid.
I’m not saying that good people aren’t making an effort. They exist. However, they are enmeshed in institutions that do not facilitate genuine recovery. systems that are plagued with red tape, burnout, and strict deadlines. Systems that let the most broken among us to fend for themselves and offer advise rather than taking action.
You already know if you’ve ever tried to obtain help here.
You are aware if you have ever entered a support center and left feeling worse.
You may have wondered if anyone in that building cared about you while you were sitting in your automobile.
So, retaliation is not the subject of this letter. It has to do with reality.
And perhaps people should start paying attention at last if that causes them discomfort.
Regards,
Wittner, Erica
(A voice from the gaps they continue to ignore.)
