Photovoice Gallery

Part of me feels trapped behind the mask after years of being hurt, rejected, having my heart and trust broken, and being used and abused. I had to put the mask on. I struggle with my own identity, I’m both the villain and the superhero of my own story.

Health work is to do something, to believe. If you don’t believe it doesn’t work. I believe it’s right because it work for me. I repeat to myself, I am good, I am well, I am happy.

The inside is nice, sweet, and good, but the cover is though. When you have mental health issues, they just see the surface. They even don’t think that inside might be better than outside.

My mom has endless patience and allows me to talk it out, regardless of how much I ramble on. She always takes the time to listen to me. I become calmer and ready to handle my next obstacle or life event.

People aren’t aware of the needs of the Aboriginal community, just like they aren’t aware of the needs of the mental health community. We need patience because things don’t happen overnight. Openness, built on a foundation of safety and trust, is needed for people to know who we really are, and to facilitate meaningful changes to our mental health system.

I identify as Celtic, lesbian, artist, musician and crazy.

This is my experience of mental illness, it’s like living in a UFO on another planet. I don’t know where I belong or what to do.

My experience of recovery is like riding a roller coaster. I’m trapped and can’t get off. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone through all those highs and lows. It prevents me from doing things I want, and people don’t understand what is wrong with me.

When I am better, I am like that boy taking photos and enjoying life, but many people see me as different now. I feel confused. I’m living in another world when I live with mental illness.

Let’s try this medication, let’s try that medication, that’s not working, let’s add this and take that away, increase this and add some more of that, let’s take it all away.