I wake in the morning and dread the day ahead,
it would be much easier if I could go back to sleep instead.
It is better than the torture of my disorder;
the voices in my head don't ask me things nicely - they're always an order.

My fear of vomiting is detrimental,
so the acts that I carry out are fundamental.
I do not leave the house; germs could get on my hands,
I always find an excuse for not participating in my friend's plans.
My hands are red raw and sore
from the excessive scrubbing; it's become a chore.
I have to put sanitiser around my mouth too,
otherwise my mind goes crazy - unfortunately that's true.

When exposed to a vomiting bug,
I completely stop eating and take an anti-bacterial drug.
I count down forty eight hours
before I can eat again; this is the extent of the phobia's powers.

When somebody mentions they feel unwell,
I avoid them like the plague and it feels like I'm in hell.

I think of the future and of the children I desire,
but the idea of germs and sickness around them is a taunt so dire.

I worry about vomiting every single day;
causing panic attacks and mental breakdowns - I want to run away.

People laugh at such a "silly" terror,
but for me it's a life-changing and deleterious horror.

How tragic it is to be in such despair.
To have to pretend like I just don't care.
Sitting in bed with tears running down my face;
thoughts of suicide are in place.
I cannot see the point in fighting anymore,
I wish to heaven I could soar.
I'm nothing, worthless, a failure, a burden,
my future is very much uncertain.
I'm not brave anymore; I have no courage,
I've been broken into a million different pieces; it's caused much damage.
And who would want to save someone who doesn't wish to be saved?
When this dark monster within has me well and truly enslaved?
I think I'll go now, it's time to say goodbye,
I will make my way to Heaven now; into the blackened sky.

You were enthralling, enchanting - and I never stood a chance,
you were mysterious, enticing and you had me in a trance.
You were the mystery I never dared to have solved,
the enigma of my life around which my world revolved.

Depression, for me, has never been the essence of beauty,
it's about cutting too deep like it's your duty,
and staying up until 4am crying your eyes out
feeling too weak to carry on and wanting to scream and shout.
It's about seeking amnesia from the end of bottles after drinking away the pain;
and sometimes it's about attempting suicide time and time again.

I'm sorry this world became so unsafe,
that you are now in an indefinite sleep,
that by evil you were strafed,
that your family and friends will weep and weep.

You always put a smile on your family's face,
no matter how sad each one of them was,
You are someone they can never replace,
the laughter lines on their faces? You were the cause.

The day that you were shot and slipped away,
Your mum broke down completely and was in absolute shock.
Your parents wept and thought of you every minute of the day,
you didn't deserve this end - they wish they could turn back the clock.

You should have been getting married,
but now you are in Heaven above.
Now in a casket you shall be carried
and they will cry for you again and release a dove.

I promise now your spirit is free,
and I promise that you won't really be gone
as you will live on inside of your family,
and for your justice they will keep fighting on.

Today I introduced myself to my mum again.
Knowing she has no remembrance of me caused a lot of pain.
It’s harder now than ever because with time
She’s lost 98% of her memory and is losing more as the clocks chime.
But I went in and read her favourite book as I held her hand,
and to her I sung her favourite song by her beloved band
knowing it would put a smile on her face
as with love my heartbeat grew quicker pace by pace.
I asked her “may I have this dance?”
And we waltzed around the nursing home garden taking a chance.
I did all this because although her brain is fading away,
She is human and she’s the only one who’s loved me always.
Now it’s time for me to visit and look after her each and every day
so that she’s never alone as the end is on its way.

My desolation fuelled demon drove me sinisterly to the edge,
“dying by your own hand is the only way out” it alleged.
So I walked to the bridge over the M25 and stood inclined.
Then I jumped- but halfway down, I found I’d changed my mind.