ODE TO A REBEL

          Ode to a Rebel
                 © 1979, Jack L. Mace

Why wend your way alone
    on paths so long and harsh?
You bend as one who's pressed
    to tasks Herculean.
Your countenance is dressed -
    your stoop reveals as well,
Raging emotions known
    but to such as your self.

You could lighten your load,
    but you choose the challenge
of the untrod, unknown.
    best primed to innovate,
You bend your steps alone -
    no entourage, few friends
To cheer, to smooth your road.
    A dream you have - but how:

          To inspire the masses;
          Re-cast dies of aeons.
          A task impossible
          A task you press upon?

Quick you see the conflict
    of love pledged - not given.
Quick you see the hurting.
    Tears you would wipe away.
Yet, how blind to grievous,
    piercing antimony
From those whom you'd select
    as fellow laborers.

"Rabid Idealist!"
    The epithet is hurled.
You wear it as a badge,
    fully cognate within
You travel in cortege
    with those since time began,
Those great "Idealists"
    who would change tides of time:

          To inspire the masses;
          Re-cast dies of aeons.
          A task impossible
          A task they pressed upon?

Flee you t'ward destruction?
    Or comprehend you not,
Comes it all from folly
    that change through you might come?
Love you, oh so dearly,
    the stress and pain within?
Flee you t'ward destruction,
    or comprehend you not?

But why Judge I harshly
    one I know not at all?
Or, do I truly know
    what drives you from within?
Know I the winds that blow
    across your heart and soul?
Why judge I so harshly?
    Your dream is truly mine:

          To inspire the masses;
          Re-cast dies of aeons.
          A task impossible
          A task we press upon?

What if I were ...

If I were temporarily laid up with a broken neck; if I experienced cancer; if you knew about it would you come, willing to help where you can? Of course you would! I’ve seen it happen repeatedly. Having experienced both of those occurrences, I’ve even had a friend I hadn’t seen in ten years bring in a warm dish of food at mid-morning.

Hmm … I wonder. What if I were to suffer a debilitating mental illness like Autism, Bipolar Syndrome or Schizophrenia? If I were an Adult ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), would you still be there for me? I suspect not. “Mental health consumers” would tend to yawn in boredom if you said you would. Yet, people proclaim that caring attitude for the mentally ill.

I am a mental health volunteer, with a consumer friend; now for 17 years. (I'll use the old "John Doe" moniker to protect his identity.) He is disabled by Schizophrenia. At first, our friendship was formal through Compeer at our Mental Health Association (MHA). Compeer pairs volunteers with “consumers” as friends. Our role was to “be there” for them at least one hour weekly.

I emphasize “was” because we no longer have Compeer. Our MHA is closed too, due to various problems that plague volunteer efforts; finances, business, personalities. That doesn’t matter, though. My wife and I continued our friendship with John well beyond MHA. He’s quasi-family; not like he’s our son, although we see him more often than we see our own. He doesn’t sleep over, and he has friends “down the street” whom we would never know. What he says he appreciates most is having a place to go on special days, and we have him with us as we can at family occasions and holidays.

What matters here is that I really doubt that John would believe you are “there for him.” He knows too many societal stigmas. He knows you would likely be afraid? “Is Schizophrenia catching; or dangerous to my safety?” He knows there were far more consumer applicants than willing volunteers; a ratio of five-or-six-to-one at Compeer’s closure.

Oh, wait! I AM Adult ADD – sometimes over-achieving, often overbearing. I am “one of them” and don’t have to tell you about “their” sense of stigma. I cannot relate my syndrome without you doubting me, saying, “Don’t make excuses.” I can’t expect the same caring in ADD as I knew as a “walking-wounded” prostate cancer victim. What I know is that you may listen, but then my “condition” will become a roadblock to close friendship.

There have been few times when I could count on a friend; come-what-may. I’ve become so accustomed to a loner’s life that when someone seems to care I’m afraid of the relationship. I’m afraid that sooner or later even they will walk away.

So, I hold back; a largely-unknown, walking-wounded Adult ADD. I’ve been admonished enough that I need not guess. My consumer-and-family friends would also doubt your sincerity; come-what-may.