And no, I don’t mean marijuana!
The free dictionary (www.thefreedictionary.com) defines a weed as:
a. A plant considered undesirable, unattractive, or troublesome, especially one growing where it is not wanted, as in a garden.
b. Rank growth of such plants.
2. A water plant, especially seaweed.
3. The leaves or stems of a plant as distinguished from the seeds: dill weed.
4. Something useless, detrimental, or worthless, especially an animal unfit for breeding.
I was working in my garden yesterday, cutting the grass, trimming the borders and weeding my flower beds. Some of the weeds that grow in my garden can actually be quite pretty and, at times, indistinguishable from the actual flowers I planted myself. I remembered the definition of “weed” I learnt at University – a plant growing where it’s not wanted – and the theme of this blog post came to me
How many of us are considered “weeds” in society? I’m looking specifically at definition 4 on the list. I know there are many people who are angry with those of us with mental health conditions, who consider us to be useless, detrimental or worthless, and there are many debates as to whether a woman with a mental health condition should have children.
That kind of stigma really gets my goat. But what’s worse, what’s deadlier, is when we start thinking of ourselves in that way. Because that’s when we start wondering if the world would be better off without us.
I tried to kill myself many, many, MANY between 2008 and 2010. Because I believed I was a weed in life, something wrong amidst a whole pile of right; something to be pulled out and destroyed. That was my illness talking.
Now, although I reckon I’m still a weed in society’s terms, I like to think of myself as one of the prettier ones. One that people like to have in their garden for a bit of colour and variety. I quite like the thought of myself as a weed…because no matter how many times you try to pull out all the weeds, they always come back.