It's easy to stick your finger or toothbrush to the back of your throat,
as you grasp the edge of the toilet seat as you puke up
all of your misery, mixed with the turkey sandwich you had earlier.
It's easy to make lines across your thigh or your wrist,
because blood is blood and who cares about how much you spill
when you're all alone at 3am with your thoughts and your pain?
It's easy to stop eating all together and to make food for others,
because then you get to smell the scent of your favorite food without
actually having to feel more weight added to your thighs or stomach.
It's easy to stop enjoying the things that make you happy in life,
because every movie has the same plot and every book reads the same words, so what's the point anymore?
It's easy to become numb to the fact that everything you could possibly
ruin has been ruined and everything that could go wrong has gone wrong, so why try and make things better?
It's easy to listen to the voices in your head after they've been gone for so long, because they want to comfort you, they want to help.
And it's sure as hell easy to remind everyone around you just how awful you are, because when everyone is too afraid to say that I'm a horrible person, I get worse and I hurt more and more people.
It's also easy to become comfortable in your own sadness, your own deep depression. It holds me when I'm being pushed down by the weight of my own horrifying reality.
But, do you know what is really hard, what takes courage?
Delaying your daily toilet-date for a study session because you're failing a class or four.
Not pushing the blade in your skin so that you won't bleed all over your favorite blanket that you gave to the girl you loved not so long ago.
Eating that dreadful piece of pizza on your plate, because you don't want your parents to be disappointed in you again, because you're drowning in your own ocean of disappointment.
Sitting back and relaxing, and watching that movie you've been wanting to see and reading that book you've been wanting to read, because you know deep down inside that it's not the same plot, its just been the same story replaying over and over in your head.
Realizing how evil and barbaric you've been, and coming back down to Earth again so you can plant your sunflower seeds in places that deserve your company, and apologizing for the weeds you left in the gardens of the people you love. I'm so sorry.
Not listening to the voices in your head, because one side of you realizes that they're not there to help you, they are only there to destroy you.
And lastly, it's hard to remind yourself that you're human. Sadness is like a faucet, while sometimes it leaks, you are more than capable to fix it, or to at least help it. Don't let it become an uncontrollable waterfall, let it be something that can be turned off once in awhile so you can remember to enjoy life.
It's okay to be sad, but there is a difference in being sad and being sad.
I'm really proud of this