A personal and political letter from someone you’d rather forget.

By Someone You’d Rather Forget

There is an uncomfortable truth that most people in our society quietly accept but never say aloud: the mentally ill—especially those of us with schizophrenia—are seen as too difficult to help and too inconvenient to keep around.

In public perception, schizophrenia is a black box: unknowable, unsolvable, unrelatable. No one wants to open it, much less look inside. People don’t know what to do with us, so they look away. Or worse, they push us toward institutional oblivion under the guise of “protection.” We’re told that laws are changing “for our own good,” but when we read between the lines, it’s clear: it’s not about us. It’s about making society more comfortable—at our expense.

Living on the Edge of Policy

I live in British Columbia, Canada, where recent amendments to the Mental Health Act have made it easier for authorities to detain people with mental illness against their will. This is happening under the banner of safety, but the line between care and control is growing thinner by the day.

With elections looming and politicians like Pierre Poilievre signaling even harsher views—such as defunding supports while also rejecting MAiD (Medical Assistance in Dying) for the mentally ill—the message is chillingly clear: we are seen as problems to be contained, not people to be understood.

What frightens me most is how fast this slope is slipping. A neighbor’s complaint. A misunderstanding. A bad day. That’s all it could take for someone like me to be stripped of my autonomy.

You think I’m exaggerating? Ask anyone living with schizophrenia how often they’ve had to mask their pain just to avoid being deemed a danger. Ask how many of us avoid calling for help because help looks like handcuffs.

We Are Already Invisible. Now We’re Being Erased.

Most self-help books, religious ministries, and public campaigns are made for neurotypical people dealing with manageable problems. They are not for people like me.

We don’t get psychiatrists. We get waitlists.

We don’t get compassion. We get control.

We don’t get healing. We get erasure.

And society is largely fine with it.

Don’t Wait Until It’s Your Child

I’m not writing this to make you feel guilty. I’m writing this because one day, it might be your child. Your niece. Your grandson. Mental illness doesn’t care how wealthy you are or how perfect your genes seem.

When that day comes, you’ll remember people like me—people you dismissed, disbelieved, or discredited—because we were inconvenient to your peace of mind.

This isn’t a threat. It’s a mirror.

When you build a society that disappears the vulnerable, that same structure will eventually turn inward. The same systems that erase us will erase you when you no longer serve them.

Make It Personal Now

If you care about justice, don’t wait until it’s personal. Make it personal now.

Advocate for care that respects autonomy. Challenge policies that criminalize mental illness. Listen when we speak. Stop deciding who gets to be visible.

We are not broken.

We are survivors of a broken world.

And until that world changes, I’ll keep speaking—for myself, and for those who’ve been silenced so long, they’ve forgotten what their voice even sounds like.

Cogency of this article was thanks to ChatGPT. The ideas are mostly mine as Ai inferred and distilled a few ideas .