I was told that some people
are born to be leaders,
and other people
are born to be followers.

my depression has sent me
on a downward spiral,
and I know that
I can't stay strong forever.
I won't stand tall forever.

am I a leader?
when I fall, will I take
anyone else down with me?

or am I a follower?
will I fall because I let
someone drag me down?

and if I don't want
to be either of those,
then who do I want to be?

don't you understand?
I am happy.

but your happiness
tastes like friendship and laughter,

and my happiness
tastes like antidepressants.

once, you opened a box of Tic Tacs
and I smacked it out of your hands,
and I watched as all of those
little mints fell to the floor.

you looked at me in shock
and asked,
"why did you do that?"

and I went silent.

I didn't know how to tell you
that it was impulse, because
Tic Tacs make the same sound
as benzos do when they're rattling
around inside a pill bottle.

__________

once, we got into an argument
over something stupid,
and we yelled at each other
and we both said things
that we didn't mean.

you got up to leave
but I had stolen your car keys.
you couldn't go anywhere.
I locked myself in my room
and you fell asleep on my couch.

the next day,
I gave them back to you
and again, you asked,
"why did you do that?"

and I went silent.

I didn't know how to tell you
that you could've crashed and
your car could've gone up in flames
and you could've never made it home

and if that happened, the last thing
that I would've ever said
to you would be "I hate you."
and if that happened,
I would never forgive myself.

__________

once, I woke up screaming
and you tried to comfort me
with a hug, and when I felt that,
I hit you as hard as I could.

when your nose
finally stopped bleeding,
and you had gone through
and entire box of tissues,
you looked at me and asked,
"why did you do that?"

and I went silent.

I didn't know how to tell you
that almost every night, I relive
experiences that I wish I never had.

I couldn't tell if I screamed out loud
or if it was only in my head.
I couldn't tell my nightmares
apart from reality, because
my dreams always feel so real.

I couldn't tell that it
was just you hugging me,
because your embrace
reminded me of the man who
held me down once and
hurt me in ways that I'll never forget.
I didn't know how to say that
every night, he reappears in my head.

I spend all day fighting off my past, and
when I let myself relax to go to sleep,
I let my guard down. and he returns
to haunt me all over again.

__________

once, you packed your bags
and you told me that you were leaving.
you were crying and so was I, and it felt
like my entire world was imploding
and on the verge of collapse.

I wiped away a tear
from my cheek and asked,
"why would you do that?"

for a moment, you went silent.

and when you answered, you told me
that you didn't know me,
and I realized that you were right.

every time you had asked me
who I was, I went silent.

when you asked about my trauma,
you were asking me who I was

and this whole time,
I hadn't realized that my trauma
was such a big part of me.

I hate having to accept it,
but I know that it's true.

my trauma made me who I am,
and I don't like that person.

my therapist told me that I should
try to imagine my mental illness
in the form of a person.

she said that sometimes
it's easier to fight these things
when they aren't invisible.

she said that maybe
doing this would help me to
remember that I am not crazy,
and that a mental illness is
just as real as a physical one.

she's told me over and over
about the chemicals in my brain,
and how my ****** literally
changed the way that I function.

she told me that he put
my body into a chronic state
of fight-or-flight mode.

she made sure
to use the word "chronic"
and not "permanent."

she makes sure
to remind me that
recovery is possible.

but when I try to picture
my mental illness
in the form of a person,
it has his face.

all of my demons
have his face.

I snuck out

and I stole cash

and I ran away

and I got lost

and I was alone

and I was scared

and I got into cars
with strangers

and sometimes
I didn't know
where I was
when I woke up

and I kissed boys

and I had ***

and I got hurt

and I hurt myself

and I skipped school

and I did drugs

and I drank too much

and I trespassed into places
where I knew I shouldn't be

and I went home with people
who I knew I should've ran from

and I kissed more boys

and I had more ***

and no one noticed

and no one said anything.



but then I kissed girls

and suddenly,
everyone noticed

and I was told that
I was doing bad things

and I was told that
I was going to hell

and out of every bad thing
that I had ever done,

I was never told
that I had sinned

and no one had ever said
that I did something wrong

until I kissed another girl.

when the therapist asked
about my family history,
I gave her a history lesson.

I told her that growing up,
my house was a war zone.

I don't remember
what year it was, but eventually
the house collapsed into itself.
that trauma left me scared and hurt
with nowhere to go.

my mother moved out first.
she moved straight into
a life of addiction, and then
she found a new house
in the form of a jail cell.

my father also began
to call a jail cell his home.
he moved into the newspaper,
and then into the database of the
national *** offender registry.

now, we have separate houses
and conflicting beliefs.

we don't share anything
besides that story
and our DNA.

I couldn't tell her
about my family history,
because I don't
have parents anymore.

I have no family.
all I have is history.