I am wallpaper, I'm the wallpaper that covers the room filled with people making jokes. You are ignorance, hate, self-loathing, immature scraping along my confidence, you dressed in riot gear ready to defend my rant about ignorance on mental health. I am wallpaper fragile and thin, tired and worn out from endless days of dealing with depression glued against a wall of to be seen and not heard. You forget that the wallpaper is listening and the jokes about depression and self-harm get absorbed in my skin, your laughter rings throughout my ears like clumsy church bells. The melody of your laughter is in my mind like a record stuck on repeat. Your laughter means it's a joke, your laughter means it's not serious, your laughter means my smile fades, I’m hurt. Hurt in a way you cannot wrap your mind around. Your jokes immediately make me as wallpaper crumble and break, pieces of me flake away as parts of my broken heart are just swept under the rug. Your jokes are drawn to me purely on the basis of association. I am 100% mental illness, 25% self harm, 25% depression, 25% ashamed, 25% hurting. Don't you realise your jokes turns me into one? My problems, my self harm, my depression, my illness is just a joke for you to laugh at, a joke, for people to laugh at, a joke for the world to laugh at. You have turned mental illness into a joke, a joke people die from, a joke people have to be medicated for, a joke people struggle with, a joke to the world, so the world will never understand, and will never take it seriously. But who cares right, it's just a joke. It's not directed at you so why do you care? By making a joke about mental illness you making a joke about me. You don't get to decide what hurts me, you don't get to decide that your pathetic excuse for a laugh doesn't affect me because it does, It makes me feel as if my illness doesn't matter, that I don't deserve to be respected that I’m below you, that I deserve to be laughed at because my illness is a joke to you therefore I’m a joke to you. I don't understand why I’m even writing this as I have stood up for myself many times before and nothing changed, no one ever felt guilt or shame, nothing. I don't understand why I bother because I am wallpaper, fragile and broken and what good is wallpaper that speaks…