August 31st, 2016
I was diagnosed with PTSD.
Because my father drank a bit too much
And took his anger out on my sister and me.
Most of my life I've had depression,
And I don't think people realize what it actually feels like.
It's a part weight weighing down on your heart
That gets heavier with every day,
It's voices in your head screaming incoherent things,
And you can only seem to pick out the bad things that they say.
It's your muscles aching as you strain to get out of bed
Because you dread having to go through another day with this war inside your head.
September 14th, 2016
I was diagnosed with Panic Anxiety,
Because some things would bring back a memory,
And it was always just a bit too frightening to me.
But panic attacks don't have to occur from a memory,
They can come from nothing, really.
You could just be sitting there when your hands get shakey,
Your heart starts pounding in your chest really quakey
Your vision gets fuzzy,
You look around at the people surrounding you,
Because you think you're going crazy
And you want to see if they'll notice your terrifying break from reality.
October 6th, 2016
The first time I carved pretty designs into my flesh,
Hoping that I'd bleed out and meet my death,
But instead I just have scars on my body,
Some of them pretty fresh.
Self harm is not a joke.
They're battle scars that each tell a different story,
Though none of these scars will get you fame and glory.
Instead they're just there as a constant memory.
November 12th, 2016
My first suicide attempt.
Went in the bathroom to overdose on a bottle of over the counter pain killers,
But instead loved ones slipped inside my head,
They made me decide that maybe it would be better to just go to bed,
Because what good is dying if you already feel dead?