The birds are singing, the cats are howling, the dogs are yapping. Everyone is up but you. You lie in bed, stiffened by the thoughts that tighten the ropes around you. You’re still, motionless, yet completely awake. You want to get up, to have a life, to just say hi to someone, but you can’t. Your body is paralyzed by the cuffs of sadness. You find no meaning, no reason, to exist but you also find no meaning, no reason, not to exist. It is as if you are caught between the two. This feeling means that you do not want to die but you do not want to live either. You are caught in a bind that strangles you with every breath.
Every day that goes by, you feel the knots tightening, until you’re almost completely wrapped up in them. You can speak, you can move, you can live, but you don’t. You become just another blade of grass. Your presence is not acknowledged, not anymore. You don’t exist… but you do. You know that you exist and you want to scream it from the rooftops but, again, you don’t. You won’t.
“Help…” you utter, still tied up in bed.
And with that, the ropes burn, leaving scars on your arms. The scars will never leave your arms but they will fade overtime. You realise now that you are finally free to speak, to move, to live.
You get up, you go outside, and you scream.
You can breathe again.
you’re in bed.
Anxiety rings the bell.
Anxiety knocks on the door.
you’re outside, for once.
Oh, hello Anxiety!
everywhere you go,
Anxiety is behind you.
is it wrong to be jealous?
to want to enjoy what you like,
to want to experience what you see,
to be able to be by your side,
and not just an extra part.
is it wrong to be yearning
for a part of your life?
i want to be like you,
i want to be happy
and smart and fun
but im just me.
no one wants to be me.
Depression is easy.
When people leave you behind,
When they wish you well,
But don’t do anything to suggest
that they mean it —
When you’re left all alone,
Just a lonely girl in a room alone,
They’re going off to places
and you’re in the bathroom
but maybe they do like you;
they just don’t understand.
You want love, you crave it,
Like a cat or a dog,
It’s your energy, it keeps you going,
But seeing them happy
makes you smile for a moment,
Only a moment,
as you realise,
you’ll never be good enough
because you’re you and they’re them.
They can go into the world and embrace
the love of everyone around them,
because that’s what being normal is —
and you aren’t like them,
that’s why they left you alone.
You wouldn’t get on with the world.
Depression is why.
Anxiety is why.
Autism is why.
That’s why you cry,
You want to be a part of an art gallery
but you’re just the frame of a painting;
you’re there, to make the painting
look nicer, but the painting is the main
What’s wrong with you?
You should be happy!
Depression, that’s why.
Poetry is the main thing in life that keeps me going. I’ve been through hard times and just getting it out onto paper helps. I can’t tell people about the hardest of times because they won’t understand but I can write about it. I can write about all the things that keep me up at night. Sometimes I lock away the poems, for my eyes only, and other times I share them with the world.
My mum is an artist. I always found that to be such an awesome job (even if you don’t get paid much mostly) because you can express who you are in art. I tried to do art but it just wasn’t for me. At one point, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an actress. I loved acting! But then I lost my confidence due to events and gave up on that. At one stage, I wanted to be vet. I’ve always been writing, since I was young, but never thought it was something that could become more meaningful than just a hobby. I started out writing picture books and soon turned to short stories. Now poetry is my domain.
Writing has saved me a lot, I’d say. It has helped with my depression and anxiety. It hasn’t cured them but getting words out onto paper has really helped me. I do wish I could tell people my true feelings but I fear loneliness. Once you place your burdens on people, they might leave you. It’s happened before. So I place my burdens on writing now. The paper absorbs my soul and breathes my air.
Poetry is art too; it’s just a different form of art. No one sees the world the way I see it. Especially due to me being autistic. I often find myself holding back thorns in my mouth because I want to tell people how I see the world. But they will not approve because it’s not how you’re supposed to see the world. At least poetry will always be my friend, and it will always accept me, even though I’m different. Poetry doesn’t give me bad advice or tell me things I don’t need to know; it just listens and that’s why I love it.
Thank you poetry.
whispers entrancing my thoughts,
seducing me into a state of confusion,
my eyes low, the floor my ally,
everyone around the enemy,
if I look up, they will know
that I’m not worth the time of day,
the whispers tell me that
they’re not my friends,
they will never like me,
because I am insane,
I am existence’s bane.
friends talk about how they understand
but they don’t,
only the whispers do,
they know my deepest fears,
my worst insecurities,
and everyone else will pretend
it’s not that bad, that it can go away
if I just tried —
but the whispers know that
it’s not something I can fix.
that’s why they’re who I trust the most,
they might be mean and harsh,
but they accept me for who I am,
with all the bad too.
they don’t silence me for talking bad,
for having a rant, for a meltdown,
for moaning, or just being me,
they’re always here.
they always have time.
This was an easy subject to do because I’ve suffered with anxiety for a long time.
A rope around my throat,
A knife in my heart;
that’s how it feels.
A piece of glass in your brain,
that’s how it is.
Judging your every decision,
that’s how it works.
You cry a bit,
But not in public;
They’ll judge you.
You lie sometimes
But not too much;
You want to talk,
But you can’t,
You’ll muddle everything.
That’s how it feels,
To have anxiety
destroy your mind.
That’s how it feels,
To have anxiety
destroy your life.
I am sad at the moment. That’s why I haven’t blogged in a while. I didn’t have anything to say because nothing was happening to me, except my mind was crumbling.
Everyone I know has a future. I can see them living their life happily in the future. But I can’t see my own future.
I have autism, which makes most social situations much more challenging. I have selective mutism, which is why most jobs wouldn’t work for me. You can’t exactly blank the customers! Most people don’t understand why I’m unable to work, encouraging me to try, and telling me about opportunities, without realising how extremely anxious this makes me. In my current state of being, normal jobs just aren’t for me. I can’t do it because of my challenges. But I want to have a goal, something to strive for, to live for. Because, at the moment, I have no goal. I’m not living, I’m surviving. I can’t do a lot of things because of my problems but because no one can actually see my disability, they keep encouraging me. It’s nice, that they think I have potential, but to be honest, it’s kinda like telling a blind person to see.
I want to do something so bad but I’m tired, I’m sad, and I have no motivation. My anxieties are everywhere. What is there for someone like me to do? Someone who can’t even go out alone, someone who often can’t speak for herself. What is there?
Someone recently invalidated my feelings and it really hurt. I’ve been feeling like rubbish ever since because it was someone close to me. I just feel like I can’t talk to them about anything I might feel in the future. I’m depressed and I’ve been depressed for a long time. So, to get my feelings completely disregarded, by someone who knows my mental health and knows me very well, isn’t nice. Ever since they did it, I’ve been down more than usual. I feel like we would argue if I brought it up with them so I’m just going to have to keep my feelings to myself around them, I guess? Even though they’re someone I shouldn’t have trouble expressing myself to. I’m in a really low place right now and it hurts. It hurts that I can’t talk to them. It hurts that they’re such an important person in my life. It just hurts.
When you change from one medication to another, it can be really challenging. For me, I’m changing the antidepressant I’m on. The reason for my switch was that, although the medication wasn’t necessarily not working, it caused my mind to have a wall stuck between it and me. I couldn’t think, and I’m a blogger, so not thinking made it increasingly difficult to write posts. It also made me angry and frustrated because I WANTED to think. It didn’t stop me thinking completely, but it blocked my mind from so much that I was sad about that. If I wasn’t sad about actual depression and anxiety, I was sad about not thinking. It just felt like something was blocking me and I didn’t have that on my first medication (though I didn’t have any positive effects either) so I felt like it was a really bad side effect. My doctor agreed and decided to change my medication, for the second time. Second change, third medication.
My first medication had been sertraline (no side effects or benefits, only prescribed it due to being a child). Three years of it (prescribed aged 15) and I finally decided to change it when I turned 18. My mum recommended citalopram as it had worked for her. However, it caused me the most terrible side effect of mind block. I was pulling my hair out. It had some other side effects too, which weren’t as bad but were still life-limiting. The third medication, the one I’m on now, is escitalopram. The doctor said, although the name was similar, it was a different medication. She also mentioned that it had less chance of side effects, which was a positive for sure.
Although I’m hopeful about it, I’m currently going through a pretty rubbish phase between medications, where I’m taking a new one and have stopped the old one, but the benefits of the new one aren’t kicking in yet, but all of the side effects are. At the beginning, the side effects are the strongest, so they will probably stop after a while of being on the medication. I’m feeling anxious and sad but I’m thinking that I will get through this. I’ve also had some horrific side effects, which I won’t go into here, but I’m sure that they will clear soon. I’ve not been on this one long so I’m going to give it time.
I hope my medication gives positive effects soon.