Anxiety in Words

Go away!
Why are you leaving me?
Come back, 
and stay with me.
You’re too loud
and it hurts my ears.
Will you please quit yelling?
Why are you so quiet?
Please talk to me.

I’m tired.
I want to go to bed.
Why can’t I fall asleep?
I’m counting sheep,
so why am I focused on the wolf?
I don’t want to wake up in a sweat.
I don’t want to dream,
because my dreams are always nightmares.
So, why go to sleep?

Everything hurts me;
it hurts to exist.
Hold me close,
and wrap your arms around me.
Don’t touch me!
leave me alone.
And no, I don’t want to talk about it.

Turn the music up,
and I’ll lose myself in the lyrics.
I don’t understand…
Music is for happy people,
so shut it.
I don’t want to fake a smile.
But I also don’t want
to have my real emotions on display.

I want to cry.
Instead, I laugh really hard.
I hate people,
but I want to be accepted.
I know I should be the one
who accepts myself.
But it hurts to be
in my own head.


Last Night

Last night, you dragged me home from the pub -drunk- after a drink too many of Chardonnay. And this morning, as I nursed my hangover, you  shared with me how scared you were last night. And yet, I have no recollection of the night’s events.

You are not the only one to tell me that you’re scared. My therapist says that my nihilist attitude scares her. My friends and family keep checking in on me, because they are afraid I might act on my suicidal thoughts. Strangers keep a distance and think twice before befriending me, because I scare them away.  And I know you have my well being in mind, I know you want the best for me, and you mean well when you check in on me. But, still, it hurts to know that I scare people.

Let me tell you how I feel. I’m scared too. I scare myself every night. And when I wake up in the morning, the fear is still there. I am scared by my suicidal thoughts and even more so that I can’t stop them. I am afraid that I might not be strong enough today and engage in self harm. I am scared by my bitter attitude, knowing that it pushes people away and leaves me on my own to fend for myself in this scary world. I’m scared of my urges to drink and smoke, because I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to not act on those urges. I’m scared to look at my bottle of medication, because it triggers more fears. I wake up afraid, and go to sleep afraid; I can be my biggest enemy.

Last night, when you dragged me home and told me how scared you are, I wanted to hold on to you, keep you close, and tell you how scared I am. I don’t want to scare people away, because I know how it feels to be scared of myself. Last night you experienced what I experience every night. (and sometimes every day)

So please, when you feel afraid, know that I am just a frightened little girl and I need all the support I can get. I know it’s hard, but together we are stronger and together we can conquer our fears.

Hope. Do Not Give Up.

I’d like to introduce you to the driving force in my life. Meet hope.

I haven’t realized what an important role hope played, until I’ve hit rock bottom and attempted suicide. Only when hope was lost and there was nothing left to save me, have I learned that hope is life in itself. 

Hope – to me – is going to bed every night at bedtime despite me knowing full well that I’m probably not going to sleep. It is getting out of bed in the morning, getting dressed and going out to face the day. It is giving my medication another shot, hugging myself after beating myself up, smiling at myself in the mirror, daring to dream of a brighter future, reaching out for help, speaking to my doctor, simple acts of caring for myself, and the list is so much longer. Hope – to me – is life.

It isn’t easy. In fact, it is a hellish road. It is a lot easier to bang my fists on the table, throw a tantrum and then give up. It’s so much easier to keep my eyes closed in the morning and pretend the sun hasn’t come up. Instead of going through the process of finding the right medication, which isn’t a lot of fun, I’d much rather turn a blind eye to reality and forget about medications, doctors and side effects. And yet, I still fight. For despair and losing hope is dangerous. To me, hope has become a matter of life and death. For when hope is lost, and there’s nothing left to hold onto, thoughts spiral out of control. The next step? Suicide.

It isn’t easy to hold onto a small, almost-extinguished, light when life punches you in the face. My brain is constantly in overdrive, thinking so fast and so much. I’m pretty sure if brains could suffer from heart attacks, I’d have a brain attack. The demons living in me are wrestling me and constantly knocking me over. The light at the end of the tunnel is merely a dream. Still, I will listen when my heart whispers in the language of hope. Because hope is life. And I will choose to live every single day. 

When hope is lost there is nothing else left to live for. Yes, hope is the driving force of life. Hope is what has kept me going for the past year, through all of my painful struggles. And when I lost it, it only made me realize how precious it is. And even through my setbacks, crying and screaming, I still hope. I learned to understand that those setbacks are a part of the recovery process and as long as I don’t give up, I can allow myself to take a break sometimes. A break is okay. Giving up, quitting and losing hope is not.

And so, I dare to dream. One day, things will be okay and I will be in a better place. For now? Now… I hope. And you? You should hope too… This too shall pass. And light shall come soon enough. 

Cheers! To hope!