‘you don’t fit the criteria’, they said ‘you’re just fed up’, they said (get over yourself), I heard, in my head Because I’ve never not wanted to eat Because I don’t cry all the time Because I don’t spend days in bed Because I never shut up Is it any wonder it took so long for me to see Self-preservation Kill, or be killed Kill the feelings, or kill myself But now I see hidden under the ice there is always the constant urge to cry Now I see the self-induced numbness the irrational irritation the over talking to hide my anxiety the restless nights when self-hatred and constant over-thinking and worrying sneaks in Now I see why I watch tv instead of staying in bed all day I shop, for nothing, anything I pore all over social media anything and everything to not think, or feel anything real Now I see It all lulls me into an emotional coma But now I do see Now I want to feel Now I want to stop crying on the inside But how does my tender heart deal with a barrage of emotions hidden for so long It doesn’t It’s overwhelmed And cowers And so it circles back Self-preservation Kill or be killed
"A creative writing module at uni, when my depression was getting worse, inspired me to use poetry as an outlet for what I was feeling.
It was at this time that I was starting to understand how long I had actually been suffering for, and that it wasn't 'just my personality'. So I sat down, and cried, and wrote out what was going on in my head; words, thoughts, feelings. Oh this was so cathartic, and seeing it written down, playing around with the words, was my own form of therapy.
I asked my best friends to read and comment and they had no idea how I was feeling as I'd never had the words before. Now my friends and family are an amazing support network because they, and I, have a better sense of how I feel, more than I ever did!
I'm still struggling daily, I just have an outlet for my negative, racing thoughts."