Playing Jenga

(The words below may be triggering to anyone with depression and/or anxiety..)




On the cold tiles of the bathroom floor

Breathe in

Breathe out

Simple enough...



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


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




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


Mumbling that, “I’m okay, thanks”

I’ll return to the scattered pile of books

Pick one up

And begin to stack again



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