Playing Jenga
(The words below may be triggering to anyone with depression and/or anxiety..)
Panting
Whimpering
On the cold tiles of the bathroom floor
Breathe in
Breathe out
Simple enough...
Right...?
-
In a matter of seconds
I am on the ground
My hands are grabbing
At my clothes
The walls
My chest
The ground
My limbs are thrashing around
Air is not easily attained in this state
So I try to choke as much oxygen down into my lungs as I possibly can
Moments later my breathing is shaky
But it is easier to inhale
I scrape myself off the floor and stumble into the bathtub
Where the shower head spits water at me
Soothing me,
Telling me to relax
Tears run their way down my face and collide with the river of water draining below me
My chest still stutters, begging for oxygen to come in normally
Pathetic whimpers force their way out of my mouth
If anyone was near they would most certainly hear the sounds of me breaking
And I break on the daily
-
I don’t show how I’m actually feeling at all
I conceal it all under a mask of fake smiles
And lies like “I’m fine”
But it all piles up
It sways and sways
Back and forth like a too-tall stack of books
Then
Every so often
The pile comes crashing to the ground
Most of the time it’s sirens and snare drums all trapped behind chained doors
But
Sometimes
Rarely
It’s the turn of a page
A blink of an eye
All of my friends are smiling and conversating like it’s just another day
It is not just another day
For me everyday is a battle
Will I get out of bed?
Will I go to class?
Will I eat nothing or everything?
Can I pretend to function like a normal human being for just one day???
-
It’s not that easy to see the crack of lightning inside of me
Or to hear the loud boom of thunder in my chest
It’s hidden fairly well
But every once and a while someone will catch a glimpse
They’ll ask me “Are you okay?”
And I’ll wipe away my tear-stained cheeks
Smiling
Mumbling that, “I’m okay, thanks”
I’ll return to the scattered pile of books
Pick one up
And begin to stack again