Anonymous 22h
just breath, in and out
surround yourself with peace all around,
but when time stops and the instincts kick in,
that is when the horror story begins,
first I get cold and I feel so old,
then I get numb and feel like i´m suddenly dumb,
my mind turns to a cloud and all the sounds are so loud,
I start to shake violently like an earthquake,
remember to breath everyone always tells me,
but its hard when you loose all control,
and people telling you what to to gets so old,
panic setting in and there is really no words to describe the
stress i´m in.
either I ill finally calm down or I will collapse lifeless to the ground,
and what was the cause of all this horror?
I don´t know but I will wake up and go on like there is no tomorrow.
Im trying to gt in contact with the cause of my extream anxiety. And Im trying to word the feelings out to get a greater knowledge and hopefully work with it i therapy and make it a little better. My challenge to my next meeting is to be able to sit still in a chair without distracting myself for 20 seconds at the 20 second mark is usually when I start to hyperventilate. Wish me luck
Its the feeling you get when your mind is a war zone, a warped home where grimmy thoughts roam, with no guidance or support zone, your so frightened to fight it on your own. More poems of suicide and self harm, you ever dreamt you died and felt calm? Just a truant mind with health crimes, help cant cure a ruined life in Hell's palms. You fell in to a ditch and because of it popping bottles of pills that you mixing your vodka with, then nodding off a bit picturing god and all of it, a doctors on the phone telling you to vomit it. Consistently monitored, the alcohol, the quiting , the six, seven seizures, its the moment a schizophrenic freezes, hearing a voice that whispers when it pleases, the vigilant bulimic, the obsessive and compulsive,the bipolar mood swing and stomach ulcers. Its the hidden issues that the medicine alters. Its the judgmental that the depression repulses ,the anxiety, the psychs with the notes, the post traumatic stress and the vices to cope. The prices of dope,the ice in the pipe that you smoke. The knife the rope, the temptation of slicing your throat. Its the stigma determined to scare you, when the bourbon your served is your urgent repairer. When not feeling nervous becomes rarer and your mom quits  her job to become your permanent carer. Its the psychotic episodes, the days that you lost seeking help, but being crazy isn't something I am ashamed to admit, so stay strong anybody who relates to this, please.
Pradeep Mar 6
Attention.
Too much, too less,
pulling in every direction.
Why do you call me,
now and then, and often.

So often I get lost,
in a distant world my own,
I jump to another very fast,
as if on a supersonic plane.

'Dreamer', 'fuzzy', 'lazy', 'lil crazy',
said well wishers.
'work hard', 'just focus',
advised freelance advisors.

I read books self-help,
and comics, novels plenty.
they prodded and poked,
'so whats wrong with you',
'why not academic books too?'

If they focused, they would see,
I seek stimulation, novelty.
I learned this late,
when I had all but accepted my fate.

Impatient, impulsive,
I speak before you are done,
can't help it, not for fun,
wish I could wait for my turn.

I delay, I procrastinate,
I pay taxes years alternate.
When close to a deadline,
always on the run.

I am creative, I am funny,
can write a poem, a play,
can raise your spirits, make your day.

Few saw that part of me,
they pointed my flaws,
analyzed my shortcomings.
Now, who has a problem with focus?
ADHD
Jessy Feb 12
I can’t get out of bed
I can’t get swing my legs over the edge
And place my feet on the ground
My mom says it’s because I’m lazy
But little does she know

I hate going to school
I hate walking into the building
I hate walking the hallways
I hate getting up to go to the bathroom
My teachers say it’s because I’m lazy
But little do they know

I won’t do my homework
I won’t try to focus on a sheet of paper
I won’t try to type of a three-page essay
I won’t spend hours trying to figure out what they’re asking of me
My friends say it’s because I’m lazy
But little do they know
Ashley Lingy Jan 30
I really want to say
I hope you're okay.

I see something on your face, a familiar grimace.
I want to tell you, I suffer from mental illness.
And all too well, I can recognize your pain;
I too, have struggled under the overpowering strain;
The suffering caused by a malfunctioning brain.

I see how you've started to avoid and withdraw.
I see enormous stress in the tightness of your jaw.
I see you grasping, desperate for some alleviation,
from this curse of complete anguish and frustration.
I see you like this not because I wish to pry.
In you, I see myself. Allow me to clarify.

I have been where you are, totally lost and alone.
Hiding from friends and family, ignoring my phone.
There were many times I felt held together only by thread.
Eventually I decided that my only option was to be dead.
But there were no lights at the end of any tunnels.
The attempt failed, and I continued my struggles.

Then someone reached out a hand for me,
offering somewhere safe for me to be.
Longing for relief, feeling defeated, I said yes.
And looking at me now, you would never guess,
the darkness that dwelled deep in my head.
Today I'm better, and quite glad I'm not dead.

So, I'm here, should you ever want to talk.
Please, feel free, tell me to go take a walk.

But I swear, my intentions are honest and kind.
I want to help you take back control of your mind.
This is just a hand held out, from me to you.
I urge you to take it, and I'll help you through.

Peer to peer, I'm offering you solace.
If ever you need me, I'll be there, I promise.
Soulace Jan 19
3:38am

Being trapped in a corner
Where everything stops
And simultaneously
Comes crashing down in a torrent of voices.
Echoing the same self loathing
That you beat every day, and lose to every day.

Looking desperately for a way out
Ready to sell your soul to the wrong buyer
For a quick gratification
Or just a way out.

Boxed in

Cave in, but can’t save him.

Jerking in his sleep but it’s not working

It won’t stop. His head is unlocked
Because he left his keys out of the lockbox

Struggling to breathe.
It’s only been 3 minutes

4.

5.

And then everything stopped.

And he became numb again.

Still twitching. Still feeling it.
 But buried.
Ice over the water’s surface
It came out messy, but I didn't want to touch it. It's just how it is.
Lari Z Jan 14
my thoughts are buzzing
my trains of thought colliding
what was I saying?
S P Lowe Jan 8
sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor
TJ Dec 2017
i give them my executables and
ask them to reverse engineer me
to look into my code for reasons
reasons that i'm not just broken
not just slow
not just bad

if these letters
on this line
mean
that i am programmed to worry
then it is not my fault
not my fault that
i have wasted years
years of my life in fear

it's just a bug
looping too many times
using too many clock cycles

my code may be broken, but
if it is broken
then i am not

maybe, just maybe
i am a good processor
given bad code.

not my fault.
no one could blame me.

it would mean
i do what i am told to
perfectly
quickly
efficiently.

but
what i am told to do is
buggy
unoptimized
inefficient

my programmers are lazy -
not me.

when i find
a function in my code
that never works
and they say
"that code is fine"
then why?
why does it never run?

something must be wrong with me after all
me, myself, the processor
i don't do what i am told

but no, no, no
i don't want that
i can't be broken, overheating, dusty
segfaulting
bluescreening
panicking

no!

the code must be wrong
it must be

so i look again and again and again
i lose myself in my code
i click and click and click
2x more and 2x more and 2x more
COMT and DRD4 and ANKK1
rs53576 and rs7794745 and rs1858830
lower risk and normal risk and higher risk
of the same thing
in me at once
conflicting
overwriting each other

there is no code to add risk objects
and no one knows
whether
they make a group or a ring or a field
or just
something
useless.

like dividing by zero.
you can...
but it's useless in the real world.
just like me.

i look for more code
for more functions
for more comments
more more more
give me more
take my rights
make me open source
as long as i can see me too.

602,000 lines are not enough
not when i run millions

stick your wires in my veins
take the code from my blood
decompile it
untangle it
i need to see it all

i need to know
that i am a good little processor
even if i am doomed to
forever
run BASIC and
a million GOTO statements
and ugly ugly spaghetti code
i am still good.
written 16 February 2016
Braxton Reid Nov 2017
I mourned my childhood; that daydreamin' boy of the past walking in the woods with friends.
Sweet child that knew no bounds.
This laughing kid with his head in the clouds.
Darn the dreams that flew away; given my chance, in that past I would stay.
A eulogy for the electric being I once was; no current was ever strong enough to hold forever.
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