A little while ago, I saw a post in my Toronto neighbourhood Facebook group about a man with “mental issues” hovering around a local park. The post also reminded us to “stay safe.” My neighbours said thanks for this warning, but my heart sank. I wondered who that man was and what had happened to him, about the events in his life that had led him to wander a public park with outward symptoms of mental illness. Maybe his gestures were sharp and pointed, his mind mired in what can only be assumed to be psychosis.
I wondered what my neighbours would think if they knew that I too had experienced severe mental health crises. I’d heard things that weren’t there, believed things that weren’t true, and lived with one foot in a semidelusional existence. Given the right mix of life events, I could have been that person wandering the park.
