DEAR ME

Dear me, when one door closes, another opens.

Its the pain that follows that swallows my emotions.

Sleepless nights, shaken and soaking,

It’s those who love me picking up what’s left broken.

I’ve fought my hardest to stay alive,

I’ve considered my options; on how to survive.

It takes strength and power, something I’ve not got.

The more I fail, the tighter the knot.

As my days dim, they pass with caution,

It pains me more occurring so often.

I’m scared, panicking, shaking and feeling worthless,

I lay back and gaze to the stars on the cold ground surface.

I try to act normal in an attempt to fit in with today’s society,

It’s difficult pretending when really I’m battling with anxiety.

My head feels as if its going to explode feeling the size of an asteroid,

I’m feeling hopeless, hearing voices and fed up being paranoid.

I’d often question, is this real or is it just an obsession.

After an assessments, it was confirmed, my diagnosis is manic depression.

I have my bad days, my life seems a mess.

Yet another assessment and another diagnosis, I’ve post traumatic stress.

I’m trying my hardest to get my life back in order,

Yet another diagnosis confirmed, I have a personality disorder.

I dream of nothing more than a life filled with realness,

Yet i’m a stage of my life struggling with mental health illness.

People talk and many will judge and avoid me,

I need to better my life, even if it’s the smallest of degree.

Dosed with medication wishing change would happen sooner,

I’d love nothing more, but to focus more on my future.

I feel lost, stolen, empty and alone,

To those who don’t understand; it’s difficult to see past the zone.

I want normality, I want to feel more useful than an old library’s bookshelf,

I guess I have to focus more on my recovery to overcome my mental health.

– James Keenan

9 thoughts on “DEAR ME

  1. Wonderfully put and written. I have given up putting on a smile or front for others. When people stop me in the streets telling me to smile I just look blankly at them. When told not to cry I say ‘No’. When asked what is wrong with me, as I am having a panic attack out doing errands, I say ‘mental illness’. I do not get a reprieve from the crushing anxiety and depression, so people have to deal with that if they try interacting with me. Some people think it is being an ass. It is really just how I cope so people won’t talk to me.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Been there, sometimes wonder back, sometimes get dragged back. It is not a pleasant place. But if you have not been there you have no clue what it is like.

    Liked by 1 person

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