I sit on the brown couch of a big room.
I am surrounded by bright yellow walls.
Yellow is the color of sunshine,
Yet I feel only black shadows looming over me.

Outside there are people walking the streets,
All dressed in orange, blue, and black.
Light and dark are constantly arguing.

I hear shouting, pounding on the pavement, the winter jacket material rubbing together as people walk.
I see the lights.
Red, White, Blue, Yellow.

All at once it stops.
The noise is gone.
The lights stop shining.
Everyone is gone,
Yet the air remains red with anger and fear.

The next morning, people ask how I can sense these shadows,
When there are people more afraid than me who cannot.
They wonder how someone with yellow walls could understand.

But white and black do not care.
They lighten and deepen at will.
Even the most vibrant cannot stay that way forever.

Once when I was younger I went to the lake with my family.
   At one point I was on top of a cliff overlooking the water.
      I stared into the dark blue hole below me.
         I wondered how deep it would be.
            Does it end? Are there rocks? What creatures lie below?
               I considered jumping. It scared the hell out of me.
                  I am someone who really does not like the unknown.
                     But I love flying. Feeling weightless. Free.
                        Was this going to be worth it?
                           Tempting.
                              I jump.

For those few seconds I felt like a feather gliding through the air.
   Although I awaited the crash.
      The moment when I would hit the water and feel it.
         Either I would feel pain or a slow of time.
            It's funny though.
               It was as if none of that even happened.
                  I just woke up.
                     I was suddenly looking at the sky.
                        I felt numb at first.
                           Next I felt the air knocked out of my body.
                              I felt like I was suffocating.
                                 I floated to the shore.

As I began to feel okay again, I looked up at the cliff.
It doesn't look as far down as it felt in that moment.
I wonder if it was worth it.
Was the unknown worth the pain?
Was it worth the weightless feel?

                                                                                   Would I do it again?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I didn't hug you more.
I'm sorry I didn't look you in the eyes and smile at you more.
I'm sorry I didn't pet you more.
I'm sorry your back legs stopped working.
I'm sorry when I asked you to please get out of the way.
I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you following me around more.
I'm sorry if you were in pain.
I'm sorry you didn't get to stay with us longer.
I'm sorry I cried so much.
I'm sorry you're gone now.
And I'm sorry for so much more.

I'm sorry.

I love you, and I promise I will see you again.

You're always so sad.

I tell you how wonderful you are and how everyone that you meet loves you.

I am met with harsh self-deprecating words flowing from your lips so freely. Like you really believe the words.

Tonight I put you down to bed after one too many pills graced your tongue.

You were speaking gibberish. Incoherent sentences that meant nothing.

I gave you water, i tucked you in, and made sure you were okay.

Just before closing the door and letting the last light dim in the room, you said, "I love you."

And after all that you have said to me. Everything you have called me. Telling me that I wasn't worth the space I occupy.

I said, "I love you too."

I forgive you every time, because I don't believe you mean what you've said to me.

I have to believe that you don't really mean it.

And I have to believe that you do mean it when you say that you love me.

I know it may be selective, but I have to believe in something good right now.

Because to be honest, I'm scared.

But I know you will awake in the morning, and it will all start again.

The pretending begins again every time...

The sky is dark, but I can see the stars.

I live somewhere where I'm lucky enough to be able to see all these stars every night.

I'm laying in a hammock, and the air is cold.

Not cold enough that I'm freezing, but just enough that I'm not comfortable.

I look down at the lit up screen in my hands.

I listen to the song playing.

It's a soulful song one of my friends wrote and recorded with a couple other friends of mine.

I open up my text messages.

I read the part where I said, "Goodnight. I love you."

And I sigh.

I listen to the crickets chirping. The frogs croaking. The dogs barking. The peacocks cooing.

You just said goodnight.

And I didn't tell you I love you because I'm romantically attracted to you.

I told you I love you because I love you as a friend and I feel so deeply for the people I love.

But here we are.

You fell asleep, and I'm here, wide awake.

I'm wondering when the universe will decide that I'm worthy of the gift of love.

I wash off the makeup
I see the acne, scars, and freckles
Peaking through my red and irritated skin.

I remember where each scar came from.
When I got my cheek scraped by a fence.
When I had swing chains wrapped around my neck.
When I tried to hug a feral cat.

I think about how someone once told me
That every freckle stands for a reincarnated life in my body.
I wonder how their lives differed from mine.
I wonder if other people have also told this body what I have heard.

I think about how someone else told me
That every freckle stands for an angel that kissed me
In the "beyond" before I was born.

If the angel kisses did happen, I want to thank them everyday for Watching over me, because sometimes I really need it.

I hope I get to meet them.

Open doors with smiling faces,
Slammed before you could even say, "Hello."

A confident demeanor,
Punched down by a low blower that plays *****.

A kind face,
Acting as a steal shield to hide an unkind figure underneath.

A beautiful rose,
With thorns that will cut like sharp knives when all you want
To do is smell it's fresh perfumed scent.

Maybe on another day

If you had asked in a different way

I might have felt that I had to stay

And our stories could have ended differently.

I want to make art.

I want to pour my heart and soul out onto paper and let the ink be like the blood flowing through my veins that keeps me feeling alive.

I want to make things that are new versions of old cliches that reignite a spark in my thoughts.

I want my screams that can chill bones to be heard through my silence and seen through my eyes.

I want my body to tense and my hairs to stand up while I slowly realize that goosebumps are forming on my skin because I didn't know I was capable of something.

I want tears to stop flowing from my eyes and instead flow from my mouth so that I can let the emotions come pouring out into someone else's ears.

I want to paint.
I want to dance.
I want to sing.
I want to draw.
I want to take pictures.
I want to really make music.
I want to write poetry.
I want to have late night talks.
I want to see into someone else's eyes.
I want to listen.
I want to learn.
I want to grow.

I
Want
To
Be
Art
.

I hyperventilate when I walk into a store or restaurant alone because I feel like I look like that fat lonely girl who got stood up.

I get lonely at midnight and panic that no one truly likes me and that I have never actually had a best friend.

I feel like a burden to anyone who is my friend and spend all my money on gifts for them to reaffirm that I am not a waste of space in their lives.

I always feel like I am being watched and that people are judging me every moment of the day.

I never tell someone how I really feel because I am afraid that when I am not happy, no one will like me, therefore no one has seen the real me and its entirety.

I feel weak when I cry and hide myself away from people so that no one will know I have an unhappy emotion.

I give 110% into making people in my life happier than I am because I am afraid they will leave me and it drains me so much that I feel numb when I am alone.

I never tell people of my past because I don't want pity from them or for them to worry and I find it exausting to reaffirm that I am not sad, even though I am.

I never tell my friends that I have depression and severe anxiety because in the past people have disregarded it and not taken me seriously.

I put up this wall for myself that makes me on red alert 24/7 and its like I am always running and never allowed to walk.

I feel like I am always sleeping with my eyes wide open and I wish that I could wake up.

Hello.

I have depression.
Some days are really hard, and other days are a bit easier for me to control how I am feeling.
This does not mean than I will make everything sad in my life all the time and I will be a buzzkill in a friend group.
This does not mean than I think about hurting myself every moment of the day.

I have anxiety.
Some situations are harder for me to be in and it takes extra effort for me to motivate myself not to be scared of irrational things sometimes.
This does not mean that I never leave my home.
This does not mean that I have no friends because I am afraid of what people think.

I have ocd.
Mine is a form where I like things a certain way and attach feelings to things that do not matter sometimes.
This does not mean that I am a "neat freak".
This does not mean that I am a "hoarder".

I am going to counseling for these.
I enjoy talking to a professional that will be confidential about my problems.
This does not mean that I am not strong because I seeked out help.
It does not mean that I am a psychotic maniac.

I don't like taking medication for my symptoms.
I personally don't remember to take them all the time and I am in a place where I can control my feelings and thoughts moderately each day.
This does not mean that other people who take medication are worse or better than me.
This does not mean that I am not really trying to get better.

Every situation is tailored to an individual, and Everyone is fighting their own battles how they feel they can.

Why can't you just leave me alone and let me feel safe for once in my life?

Today I sat in my car.
Holding back the tears.
Why did I want to cry?
Why didn't I know why I wanted to cry?
Why didn't I just do it?
Why was I holding back?
No one was around.
I was alone in my car.
With the radio blaring.
Just letting the noise run right through me.
Like vacant noise.

I was diagnosed officially with depression and general anxiety disorder last year.

I saw three girls say on social media say today that they were "depressed" because their mom forgot to buy them their favorite cereal.
Because their new iphone wasn't the color that they wanted.
Because their toenails color didn't match their fingernails color.

I take pills so that I don't have a bad movie playing over and over and over again in my head all day. I don't like taking them, but if I don't, I'm afraid of what will happen.

Sometimes I become so sad that all I can do is lay on the bed and stare at the wall, thinking nothing, because I feel like I am in a dark hole that is impossible for me to get myself out of.

I'm afraid all the time of the inevitable doom that I feel.

You're mocking me.
You will never understand.
This is not something that you should make into a trending hashtag on social media and then use to not talk about the real problems we face, but to talk about petty problems in your lives.

I am suffering, and all you can think about is how "depressed" you are that your parent(s) won't buy you that new pair of boots.

I don't understand...

Some nights I can't think about those things.

The things that make me sad.

They could be something small like how there is an unhappy baby somewhere right now wanting it's mom to hold it.

Or it could be something personal like when I think about how I will lose my mom one day.

It could be a sound, like someone crying.

It could be a thought like how someone somewhere is thinking about ending their life when they have so much to live for.

It could be something like how a dog or cat or other animal is being hurt or neglected right now, when they do nothing wrong and all they want is love.

It could be something like seeing a scene in a movie that makes me think deeply about life.

It could be thinking about how happy someone is about something you will probably never get to experience or have.

It could be my own thoughts like when I think about how stupid I am for thinking about all these things right now.

I feel them all at once.

And I cry.

And I can't seem to stop long enough to think about the happy things.

I just feel to deeply.

Until I fall asleep into darkness and I have dreams of all these things and it's like a bad movie playing

Over
And over
And over
And over
Again
And again
And again
And again
In my stupid head.

...

This vessel is broken.
This vessel is achy.
This vessel is hurting.
This vessel is rotting from the inside out.
This vessel is braving harsh waves.

This vessel isn't the prettiest.
This vessel isn't the smoothest ride.
This vessel wants to be better.
This vessel wants to be accepted for what it is.

This vessel will try to take the hits as much as it can.
This vessel will try to keep itself going.

This vessel won't give up.

I couldn't sleep.

My breathing speeds up a bit.

My breathing gets faster and I feel... "blank."

My chest hurts.
I want to cry.
I don't even open my mouth.
I cant.
I realize what's happening an I try to calm down.
I do breathing exercises.
I think about if I should mention this to someone.
I feel nothing now.
They chest pains stopped.
The breathing is slowed.
I sit there as the voices continue.

One tear rolls down my cheek.

I think about how no one is next to me.
No one is with me when I need someone.
That's how it usually is.
I just keep a lot of it in.

Another tear rolls down my other cheek.

I just close my eyes and try to sleep again.

I've had you since I was little.
I just didn't know you that well.
You hid in the background and hardly ever came to the light.
But you were there.

Now you have gained a friend.
You go hand and hand with each other.
You feed off of each other.
You are more present, but I still don't know exactly what you are.

I've started noticing you both more and more.
You create a tornado together.
Spinning with violent bursts.
Crashing things into each other inside of me.
It hurts.

I've let you consume me.
I feel hopeless.
I need to escape this.

I have a name to put to you now.
Anxiety.
And your friend.
Depression.

I've looked for help.
I heard that's the first step.
I'm pushing you down as best I can.

I at least have some hope now, and that's better than before.

I've spent a long time now thinking about how I need to love myself and respect myself more. About how I need to work harder to achieve this goal of mine to finally be fully happy with myself and the way I am. I of course have my down moments like everyone else, the days when: you think someone would never like you or want to date you solely because of your size, you feel like the world stares at you in repulsion, you get on a diet kick that doesn't seem to work and everyone just keeps saying that you aren't trying hard enough, someone takes the opportunity to pick on your weight just because they know you are insecure about it and you are having a fight with them, people refuse to partner with you for anything and you blame your looks, you are never anyone's' first choice, or sometimes even the second or third choice, you are dead last, a store doesn't carry your size but your friends, even with good intentions, try to make you try things on and you don't want to tell them that nothing here will fit you, you might even make up an excuse, or when someone so tiny compared to you, talks about how fat they are, and you think, "what does that make me?" But then you have your up days, where: You feel cute with how you look and comfortable in what you're wearing, you find something you love in your size, you eat a good meal and don't feel bad about it, you sit down somewhere and feel comfortable enough with who you are around that you can eat and drink and do what you want to do with no judgement, a random stranger compliments you, you win an argument without stooping to the level of picking on someones looks or weight, you find someone who accepts you for you. Those good days should out way the bad, but some days one bad time can ruin a whole weeks worth of good things for you, and that's ridiculous. So please be kind to others, and yourself. For the fact is, you know how it feels, even if it has only happened to you once, to feel alone and bad about the beautiful body you are in. I'm working towards loving myself more and accepting the things I have been given to live with. I hope this journey leads me to a brighter path and a better future, and I know I am worth more than my weight and the way I look. So take me as I am, or don't bother with me at all, because you are not worth my time of day.

I tell myself over and over again:

I am loved.
I am beautiful.
I feel good.
I can do this.
No one can make me do anything.
I am a good person.
Everything is only temporary.
I'll be okay.
I have people who want me.
My weight does not define me.
My appearance does not define me.
My grades do not define me.
Others opinions do not define me.
I am unique.
I don't need toxic people in my life.
It's okay to cut myself off from them, no matter how attached I may be.
It's okay not to always feel like myself.
I shouldn't care who likes me or who doesn't.
All that matters is that I like me.

I will keep telling myself these things over and over again until I have them drilled into my skull and I finally believe all of them.

**I will.

I drove off
Looking at the lights
Flashing at me in the dark
I took in the scenery
I took deep breaths
I thought
I cried
I didn't call anyone
I just looked
I looked for something
Something to slam my thoughts into
So that maybe they would stop
But instead I pulled over
I felt numb
I wrote this
And you might never know how lucky you are
That I wasn't brave enough to make it stop
Make it all stop

But I actually came close tonight

. It needs to stop .

.

No.
You are not forgiven.
You can never be forgiven.
I act fine.
I pretend to forget.
But I will always remember.
Remember what you did to me.
And I've heard it before.
"Getting over it will make you feel better."
"Forgiveness is good for the soul."
"How can you fight all the time? I'd get tired and stop."
Maybe those things are true.
Maybe I should.
But I'm the one who carries this pain.
I'm sorry.
I'm not forgiving and forgetting.
You won't change my mind about it.
So why don't you quit repeating the same thing over and over to me time and time again.
When we both know, all that comes out of your mouth, is lies.

I think I might die soon.

I hope everyone else remembers me as a kind person.

I hope they all end up happy in the end.

I hope you know what went wrong,

You might think that maybe you could of listened to me more. Believed me more. Talked to me more. Tried to be kinder to me.

But you won't be able to change that.

The deed will be done.

Just know, that through it all, I was called strong.

I never thought I was, but now... I can kind of see it. A little bit.

So.

I guess this is goodbye...












Goodbye.

I remember,

When I was 4 or 5 and we went into the garden of giant sunflowers in our front yard, and me and my brother wore over sized t-shirts and let hundreds of lady bugs crawl all over us as we laughed and giggled with mom.

When me and my brother took pictures for our family photos in the hallway and we got all dressed up for the first time and we hugged and connected for the first time.

When we visited grandpas house and he watched us play the piano badly while we had a tea party with chocolate milk.

When in preschool I was put into an art class with the older children who picked on me, and eventually I hid under a table and cried for my mother to come get me, resulting in me getting kicked out of that preschool because I bit the teachers hand after she called me a ridiculous idiot and tried to grab me from under the table.

When I was in kindergarten and all the other kids played with construction work toys as I asked the teacher if I could color instead. She forced me to play with the other children as they threw fake plastic rocks in my face.

When I was put into another art class with older kids where none of them accepted me and I was screamed at and kicked out by the teacher after one class because I colored a face on a person orange, since I had no skin colored crayons or pencils.

When I sat on the playground alone and had children make rumors all around me about me as a teacher tried to force the other kids to play with me.

When a boy thought I liked him and decided to come up to me, in class, in front of everyone and make it apparent that he never did, and never would like me because he thought I was ugly and fat, and the class agreed.

When one of the teachers told me that I would never amount to anything in my life because I could not pass one of my math tests. She then proceeded to show me her "golden paper clip" and tell me that I was worth nothing and would never have the honor of earning that award.

When I tried to stand up for myself for once by telling one of the girls who bullied me that I didn't like what she said to me, and she found me one day waiting for my mom to come pick me up after school, as i sat on the swing set. She brought her older cousin who twisted me in the swing so that the chains wrapped around my neck and I could barely breathe. He told me if I ever said something like that to his little cousin again, he would **** me.

When I won a talent show for the first time in my life, and I felt so good about myself, until a girl came up to me with a small group of her friends and kicked me to the ground, saying I didn't deserve it.

When I was forced to run in a track meet or my school and I vomited after running as a lot of angry families told me how worthless I was because I came in last.

When I transferred schools and nothing changed. I still had no friends and everyone made fun of me behind my back, and a few times, to my face.

When I made actual friends for the first time and I felt accepted.

When on of those "friends" told me that I was a sinner because I don't believe in god, and she tried to force me to read a bible she brought to school for me everyday.

When I was called into the counselors office for getting in a fight in class with a girl and her friend after they called me a b----. The counselor made me out to be the bad guy for standing up for myself.

When a teacher pulled me aside and told me that I smelled like crap and she thought that's why children didn't like me, but when I asked my friends, they said she smells, not me, and that she has tried to pass it off onto other children before too, saying the same thing she said to me.

When I auditioned for choir in Junior High and all the other girls told me that I would never make it in, because I was a fat girl who couldn't sing, and no one wanted to hear or see that.

When I had my first day of Honor Choir in Junior High, and all the girls didn't think it was right that I made it in, so they pushed me off the top of the risers and onto the floor while telling me that I was an idiot who didn't know what they were doing, and laughing at me.

When I actually won a singing competition for our school and got praised by my choir teacher.

When my mom sat in the car with me crying and telling me that her and dad were getting a divorce and that she wanted me to live with my dad and make sure he was okay.

When my brother got in a big fight with me and hit me for the first time.

When I moved to the new house with my father and my mom called me, crying one night because she thought I liked my dad better than her.

When my dad told me that I was a worthless human being because I was having a panic attack at midnight in our living room.

When my dad slapped me across the face for having another panic attack in front of him and his girlfriend.

When my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and started screaming at me to get the hell up and pack my bags because he was taking me to my mothers house. I went in crying my eyes out and as I hugged by my mother and brother.

When my dads wife started fighting with me and my mother, threatening our lives as they tried to get custody of my brother and said she would never want me in their house ever again. She continues to bully me.

When I broke down on the side of the road in my car with my brother and started to have a panic attack. My brother screamed at me to shut the hell up and I considered running into the road and getting hit by a car to end it all.

When my mom almost killed herself by taking to many pills when she was sad and I had to watch her until she finally fell asleep in bed and I almost missed school the next day because I was so worried about her.

I remember. You might pretend to forget or act like it never happened, but I won't forget. Ever.

You're angry with me.
Why?
I try so hard not to make people angry with me.
Then other times I absolutely could not care how you feel about me.
But, later I will regret it.
I know I will.
Only one person has ever made me not regret my anger at them over time.
As for everyone else,
Even a stranger,
One act of anger towards me and I will think about it for a long time.
I feel an unimaginable amount of guilt.
I feel unhappy.
I feel afraid.
I feel responsible.
I feel regretful.
Please don't be angry at me.
Please.
I wish I didn't care...