I try to please you, but I continuously fail. Steady stressin , anxiety attacks, insomnia.
I feel my body slowly breaking down, feel myself losing control, slipping – my grip on life loosening.
My arms are getting tired, to heavy to hold on
. Dreams are no longer exsistant, just a constant nightmare.
I sometimes wake in terror, body trembling, sweat caressing my body, tears kissing my cheeks.
They say when nothing goes right, turn left and pray – well maybe its just me but when I turned left I ran into a brick wall with a posted note saying “God ain’t listening no more.”
Which is understandable since like most people I’ve lost sight of faith and I pray only when i have no idea what else to do.
I’ve rented out a resort, more like an escape called alcohol.
The warm sliding down my throat, warming me, taking all my pain away.
My drug, my temporary sanity savior, my release.
Aderall, my happiness, my love, my repression – ensuring that I reach such an extacy that my troubles are no longer worries, more like Jokes.
I smile to hide my pain, laugh to hide my heartbreak and cry when I can no longer pretend to be strong.
I’ve considered it many times, planning it out – making sure every one would be taken care of when I leave but then there’s always something coming up stopping me – someone needing me, wanting me, needing me to help them somehow some way.
I hate to see others struggle, maybe because I know what its like to struggle.
Depression is a scary thing, often going unrecognized, unseen, unheard.
My screams are muted by deaf ears, unseen by blind men.
There’s no question as to why I pretend to be okay, to walk around with a smile plastered to my face, a laugh always escaping my mouth because what else is there to do when your heart is constantly bleeding, or when you’ve become a shell of your very own existence?