"I wake up, puddle of sweat.
I have nightmares and I get back into bed.
It's like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head.
And I can't get them to leave me alone.
Thirty years old,
but still hate being alone when I'm home.
Because that's when the voices get the loudest.
Opening up like this is a moment far from my proudest.
But these demons keep pressing me, I swear they're the foulest.
But I've grown comfortable with their presence,
my conscious is calloused.
My dreams are their playground, my thoughts are their palace.
I've tried to evict them, they return with more.
Anxiety isn't an item you can return at the store.
I was ten the first time I had a panic attack.
Like a punch to the stomach, there is no planning for that.
And I didn't tell anyone because I was scared about what they'd say.
And I know deep down there was nothing they could do to take it away.
It was my fight to fight and my battle to face.
I remember that house I grew up in and the demons that would rattle that place.
I'd stay awake at night, just staring at the ceiling.
I've spent my whole life trying to run from that feeling.
That feeling of being lonely, that feeling of being lost.
That feeling of being lost when the lights turn off.
That feeling of being depressed, that feeling of being anxious.
That feeling of screaming to God, begging him to take this, only to get silence in return.
I'd lay in that bed crying, and I toss and I turn.
And I turn and I toss.
The doctors gave me medication, the pastor said pray.
I tried both and this anxiety still hasn't gone away.
So forgive me if I fantasize about being gone today.
I'm an actor who just got really good at being on today.
But when I turn off I go right back into the shadows.
I'm at the deep end now, but I started in the shallows.
And I might just drown myself in these waves.
Suburban hell, these homes are all graves.
Everyone is coping with something they won't admit it, they're all too afraid.
And these kids are glued to watching me, what do I say?
I'f I'm honest with them, maybe they won't think so highly of me.
Everything they want me to be is what I'm dying to be.
But everything I really am is what I'm not trying to be.
I want them to know they're not alone in their struggles.
I wake up in tears and fall back asleep in those puddles.
And I don't think Ill ever get out of this valley I'm in.
Terrified that all along, God has tallied my sins.
And if he has, the number must be astronomical.
My life is just a joke and you keep reading, just pass the comic.
Because everything you think that I am is far from the truth.
But my vocal cords get tight when the devil pulls on this noose.
And then I'm back to keeping everything bottled up inside.
But he's not gonna keep me from pulling the throttle back this time.
He's not gonna keep me trapped like this.
I can't get out of bed, I was never made to act like this.
I'm packing up my bags and he can't stop me from running fast like this.
I 'm not gonna be a slave to these voices of anxiety.
I'm shoving the devil back for every time he lied to me.
And I'm taking a belt to the demons that whisper despair in my ear.
I'm ignoring every naysayer who stands and stares when I'm near.
I'm moving forward out of this slum. I took my bruises, I took my lumps.
I fell down but I got right back up.
So give me a torch and let's light that up.
I'm sending fire to the devil and I'm dousing these demons in gasoline.
Look at you now.
Now you're not laughing at me.
Now who's the one being tortured and punked.
Now who's the one closing every door that I want.
Now who's the one watching the other burn to the ground.
Don't look away from me, you better turn back around.
I'm not done talking to you.
I'm watching you moves.
I'm on your back and stalking you too.
And when you try to ruin some other kids life, I'll be stopping you too.
You took thirty years of my life, and I can't get that back.
You told me to end my life and I nearly got killed for that.
You took me down but I bounced right back.
I was lost but then I got found like that.
Everything you told me I wasn't, someone new told me I was
And when you tried to **** me with depression and anxiety,
He reached in and placed hope deep inside of me.
So I'm done listening to you and letting you control me.
I'm announcing it now, that the devil can't hold me.
I'm walking away from the old me, and I'm demanding a refund for every lie that you sold me.
You knew I would find a way out sooner or later, and I found my escape in the form of a savior."
This poem is not mine, all rights to Clayton Jennings. He is the original creator of this poem, but I like to share his words.
I would like to state again that this poem does not belong to me, all rights go to the correct and original writer of this passage, Clayton Jennings.