Perpetually

Fuck. I want to die. I wasn’t supposed to let it get this bad again but it’s not like I really had any choice in the matter. It’s my brain who fucked up here, not me. After all, Mental illness is all due to a chemical imbalance in the brain, isn’t it? I think it is so funny that all this really boils down to is a chemical imbalance in my brain. That just proves that all of this is really completely out of my control. People always say “You are not your mental illness”, but if I am not my mental illness than who am I? I have lived with my mental illness for the entirety of my life, we have grown familiar with each other and it seems so strange that we would ever be part. If I am not my mental illness than who is it who continuously brings the bottle to my lips, who is it who constantly drags the blades across my skin, who is it that perpetually craves death. It seems that everyone’s favourite thing to say is “stop using your mental illness as an excuse” or “Your anxiety is no excuse for skipping school” and perhaps that bothers me so much because it is true. Isn’t that what I’m doing when I sit in the office crying begging to go home because I missed yet another assignment and I feel entirely too worthless to ever try again. Isn’t that what I do when I cry in the bathroom every day? My brain has not been working right and instead of going to class like I should have been I was paralysed by the ways it could all go wrong and instead of getting help I was having an anxiety attack in the bathroom, as per usual. Lately, I can’t stop crying and the anxiety attacks have been more constant, because of all the classes I’ve been missing and because of mornings like this, when I can’t breathe, or on the mornings when I can’t get up and wish I never would. It’s so silly, that the thought of going to class, the thought of dealing with other people, paralyses me with fear, it’s exhausting and I’m so scared they will see through my mask. That they will see me for who I truly am. The mentally unstable girl, and it’s not like they don’t already know, I’ve heard the whispers. I’m so sick of asking for second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth chances; chances I shouldn’t need and don’t deserve. Everything used to be so easy when I was little but lately basic human routines feel like mountains I need to scale every single day and you don’t understand how exhausting that is. You don’t understand how incredibly worthless I feel as I am pacing outside of my classroom door but cannot find the strength to walk in and his voice is constantly replaying in my head “you are stupid”, “you are worthless”, “you are nothing”, over and over again until I have absolutely no choice but to believe it and to give up. I can’t move, I can’t sleep, and I can’t even take a shower. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, and it is all I ever say anymore. I can’t. My brain is constantly begging for death and for life in the same breath; I am never sure which voice to listen to. I am not cut out for this life. I never even asked for his life, I am so mesmerised by death and all the ways I could do it, it seems death is the only thing I can think about these days. When I sit on the swings I say to myself “You could go to the train tracks right now and everything could be over. No more stress, no more anxiety, no more being the disappointing daughter” and you have no idea how scary that is. I am constantly plagued with my own death wish and it’s really starting to mess with my head. A part of me craves the next experience, to see my mom again. I really wish I could talk to my mom but she’s fucking dead and oh god I miss her so much. Everyone around me is broken and it hurts to see people want to throw away the good things they were given and then at the same time, I’m aware that the same is true for me and that I shouldn’t throw away all the good things I’ve been given but I don’t care anymore and I’m completely prepared to toss everything away at a moment’s notice. I’m sick of being a walking disappointment and I can’t let this go on anymore. I’m sick of living each day because each day is so full of life and I don’t have the capacity to enjoy it anymore. Every single fucking day is the same. I wake up, spend all day wishing I was dead and then I go to sleep again and it’s not ideal and it’s not normal and I don’t think I can change because trying is so hard. I don’t think I’m cut out to live this life. I really don’t. Some people were born with the strength to make it through hard times but I just don’t have the resilience to withstand the constant disappointment and perpetual loss.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Tommie Wright

Wow, this is very intense and powerful. You are extremely good. Hope I can be as good as you one day.

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