All Posts, mental-health, poetry

Time Machine (Find Out)

I wish I’ll get the chance to do things differently.
Go back in time two or three years.
Back to a time where things were easier.
Without any bad days or sad tears.
You see,
A few years ago, I received a letter,
A friend telling me things were gonna get better, I
Ignored what they said,
Now I’m sat here wishing I was dead,
I wanna know when it all changed?
When my thoughts became crazy and deranged?
But I guess we’ll never find out,
I guess I’ll never get to find out.

 

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but if I had the opportunity to go back in time, start all over again… I would.

You know, I’m currently nineteen, I have no clear direction, and I know I sound like a broken record (because I say this to myself hundreds of times), but I genuinely have nothing.

Maybe in five years time, that stance/opinion I have right now on my life would change. It’s just… right now, I’ve felt like I’ve done everything wrong. Like I’ve wasted my life and don’t know how to change it.

And maybe I wouldn’t be… well, like this anymore.

Photo Credit: @TheDigitalArtist

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All Posts, mental-health, poetry

A Really Depressing & SAD Thought

As I sit down to write this poem,
struggling to see the lines of the page (I wrote this out before typing)
as the natural light hides behind some nearby houses,
I come to the terrifying conclusion.

The nights are getting darker.

And now I won’t be able to rest easy,
to shake this from my mind.
The thought that every day,
the days will get a *little* shorter,
nighttime is slowly creeping from the shadows
a minute or two earlier from usual,
day by day.

And now,
I’m going to be staring out of the window every night,
watching the sunlight dissipate from my eyes,
paranoid as I start counting down the sunrise time,
from now until December.

Photo source: @Myriams-Fotos

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All Posts, mental-health, poetry

A White Lie

I look towards
the grey sky,
tell a white lie,
“It’ll be okay”,
I
Cross a line through
thoughts that are mine,
but never say.

I can feel it,
My life slowly slipping
Away from me.
And on the dark days,
mind ablaze,
I see the life I’ll never see

I’m useless,
I’m hopeless,
My mind has spoken, it tells me
My dreams are smashed,
Can’t be fixed, now broken
And it’s too late, to think straight,
My future in question, as I
lose my way on the highway
in the State of Depression.

(Photo credit: @jnusch)

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All Posts, life, poetry

Things I Am Scared Of

Tarantulas.
Heights.
Roller-coasters.
Going at fast speeds
Bees.
Wasps.
Job interviews.
Loud noises.
People.
People talking to me.
Maintaining a conversation with someone.
Saying the wrong thing.
Coming across as “socially awkward”
Growing older.
Suicidal thoughts.
Going to busy places.
Applying for jobs.
Loneliness.
The feeling of not living life to its full potential.
Social media.
Rejection.
Falling in love with someone (who doesn’t love me back)
Asking for help (when I need it the most)
Becoming homeless.
Being laughed at.
Death.

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All Posts, life, mental-health

I need to stop comparing myself to others.

Or, more specifically, I need to stop going on social media on the weekends.

You know, there’s only so many Instagram and Snapchat stories (of people going on nights out, socialising with friends and doing fun shit, going to work and complaining about it, etc) I can watch before I start to feel terrible about myself.

And it’s just not helping me get better.

I sound like a broken record at this point, as I’ve mentioned this about a thousand times by now, but I genuinely do have nothing at this point. I have no purpose. At least when I went to college last month, I had a reason to wake up. Now, however…

I mean, it’s not like I’m not trying. In the past week and a half, I’ve applied to six different jobs. Haven’t heard anything back yet.

^^ OH, LIKE THAT’S A FUCKING SURPRISE! HAHAHA! ^^

So there’s me, who’s not getting anywhere in life. And then there’s all my friends, who are complete polar opposites to me.

It just makes you think “what’s the fucking point in doing anything anymore?”

And the same thing happens every. single. weekend. rinse. and. repeat.

 

So THAT’S why I need to stop comparing myself to others. Or, more specifically, I need to stop going on social media on the weekends. Because it’s not healthy.

 

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All Posts, life, mental-health

“It’s Lying to You.”

Those four words.

I see these posted everywhere, particularly social media – Twitter, Reddit, you name it.

In fact, I’m 100% positive I’ve heard MYSELF say it to someone.

And in a way, it’s become a default phrase that people tend to use – when someone is really struggling, having a relapse or a breakdown, or feel like there’s no will to carry on with life.

In a way, it’s almost synonymous to when people say “Things will get better.” It’s reassuring, and is exactly what someone like me would want someone to say to me during a difficult time. You start to believe that things “can only go up”, even if for some people, things never do improve. (And that’s not just me being cynical – for some people, life DEFINITELY doesn’t get any better)

However, when someone says “It’s lying to you”, it’s implying that what is going up *in there* is an entirely different entity to what actually happens – i.e. “You’re overthinking. What your mind is saying won’t happen. I promise.”

And for the most part, I’d agree. What I think in my head is completely different to real life.

But sometimes what we think can become reality.

Let me give you an example. Just over a month ago, I wrote a poem titled “My Biggest Fear“, which revolves around the theme around my fear of loneliness, and that now that I’ve left college, I’m going to isolate myself from my friends and never talk to anyone again and become a lonely, emotional mess.

Fast forward a month, and I’m quite possibly the loneliest I’ve felt in a long while. I’m going through another mental health relapse. I can’t sleep (hence this post at 1am in the morning). I feel like a failure – no job, no potential. I have nothing. I feel absolutely shit about life. I feel anger, even over the smallest of things.

And now I’m sat here, thinking “I called it. I called this a month ago, and I knew it was happening. I could see it. I felt it. So my brain WASN’T lying to me then? And why didn’t I do anything about it?”

 

All I’m suggesting is that maybe we shouldn’t just “disregard” our thoughts so easily. If we have a thought that seems like it could happen, make note of it. Do something about it that prevents it from happening.

If that makes sense (I’ve got no idea, to be honest; I’m so sleep-deprived and got no idea if I’m making any kind of sense)

 

Yeah, I think I just need to sleep.

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All Posts, life, mental-health, poetry

Job Depression.

It was then, as he sat down on his bed,
laptop on his lap,
ready to seize the day,
ready to believe that he could do it,
that the realisation hit
that he couldn’t, in fact, do it.
He’s got no experience,
no personality,
no skills,
no talents,
and no will to carry on with life.
“What’s the point?” he says to himself,
as he sits there, contemplating whether it is worth his time.

He sits there, staring into the abyss
ten, twenty, maybe even thirty minutes,
when the anger hits.
He’s frustrated – frustrated that he’s wasted time,
doing nothing productive in his life once more.
His head pounds.
His anxiety increases.
He takes his anger on the things around him.
He can’t concentrate anymore.
He sees red.

And as he sits down on his bed once more,
a single tear falling down his cheek,
his brain tells him exactly what he wants to hear;

“You will never amount to anything in your life.
You’re just a failure. Just stop.”

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