Let’s start simple
Say you’ve got that one annoying pimple
And all you can hear are the voices muttering in your ears
Telling you that your skin should be clear
Go to school, feel the eyes in the back of your head
Knowing that they’re all judging you for not doing your hair when you got out of bed
But the fact was you didn’t sleep
To busy trying not to weep
From your not beautiful complexion
When everyone else’s is perfection
Go home from school, feeling a miserable freak
Think that your a fat pig and don’t stop to eat
Don’t socialize with anyone and go to bed
Trying to ignore those voices in your head
But they mutter on
Try harder
Eat less
Get smarter
Wear a dress
Don’t show so much
You’re too dressed up
Skip lunch
Fix your make-up
Until you want to scream
And go to bed crying in the hope that this was all a bad dream
This is anxiety
And all anxious people rarely think, ‘Why me?’
You wake up next morning and your anxiety is gone
You don’t really care whether you belong
You don’t really understand your purpose in life
Then more voices return to stab your brain like a knife
Until they find the joyful thoughts and drag them out
Destroying them and ripping them until the bad side spouts
They rearrange your brain until you can’t find the joy in life anymore
And you go to school knowing that people won’t be any better than the day before
Meet up with your friends , mention that you think something is up
They don’t like you anymore they’re too busy helping a friend who claims to be depressed from a break-up
She tells you you’re lying, that you’re making a scene
You are mad but you don’t have the energy to scream
So you go straight to the sadness and wander away
Not knowing what could be any better than that that day
A nice guy, smart, notices you’re sad
And starts to talk to you, he obviously feels bad
But you shrug him off, you don’t need friends today
He seems disappointed, sad as he walks away
You go home and lie on your bed
Allowing those voices to mutter in your head
Really?
Who would want to be friends with an evil person?
Hah! You thought we were anxiety?
Remember we’ll make you life worsen
Oh and that time you decided to steal a biscuit
From mummy’s special jar
She knows that you ate it
No, we don’t care how you feel or are!
They mutter on and become a cruel lullaby
Since you can’t sleep you begin to cry
This is depression
It is a march of voices drowning out ‘Why me?’, one long procession
You wake up in a different bed
With no voices running round in your head
Just memories of one sad time
Of that traumatic crash where your parents were killed during crime
A seemingly nice woman walks in
Heads over to the corner and empties out the bin
You remember who she is, a nurse, the quiet kind
She has a calm, non-stressful state of mind
But you close your eyes all the same
And run through the crash like it was a cruel game
You eat your breakfast in your new foster home
Around a table shaped like a dome
Head to school, and people don’t know
When you want to speak all they say is no
They offer you a trip in car
And even though you know it’s not far
You feel as if you must go
But as you see another car pull in front you start screaming and shouting ‘NO!’
Turns out that home wasn’t a home at all
It was an asylum you’ve been in since your parent's fall
The voices are replaced with memories of death
Which show that you parents were within a hair’s breadth
A screech
A scream
Blood all over
Your ice-cream
A vision of black
An you know you won’t ever get your parents back
PTSD
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder people cry at night, ‘Why me?’
You wake up again, your parents asking you if you are ok
And you realize it may have just been a dream yesterday
You giggle and say ‘Yeah I’m great’
No memories, no voices, no need to debate
They hug you and laugh and pick you up
This isn’t like them, they never like to look after you, to check-up
You look around and see lots of paintings
And then you remember your talent and that you painted those things
Your mum presents you with toast and soldiers
And suddenly you realize that you are much older
You sigh and say ‘Mum I don’t need this, cereal please?’
Your mother says ‘No sweetie, eat these’
You head upstairs and ask ‘Where’s my phone?’
Your dad sighs ‘Darling you don’t need it, you are home.’
You feel your emotions muddle together, you don’t know what to feel
You shouldn’t be angry, they gave you a lovely meal
But it’s not fair, where are your school clothes?
You feel fear mix with anger, happiness and joy disposed
You look around and your eyes widen
‘Where am I, who are you, tell me who I was born from, and when!?’
They fill you on at all but everything feels fake
You feel your mind and our body begin to shake
You allow your voice to reach a screeching note
And feel as if it’s pulling you up to float
You scream, you voice no echo now
Your parents grab and pull you down
You cry and thrash, not happy anymore
And kick your mother’s face into the floor
You throw a vase at a painting of a willow
And you are still screaming as your head hits the pillow
Autism
The world looks too much like a ‘Why me?’ prison
You wake up in your bed
Memories now voices circling your head
You close your eyes and the voices cry ‘TIDY!’
You open them again to see the mess that’s your room and you begin to scream
You run to your wardrobe and sort your clothes till you can’t sort them anymore
You pick up the school books scattered on the floor
Pack your bag and leave the house
Saying goodbye to your mum as quiet as a mouse
You arrive at school at enter your class
And trace your finger perfectly with the raindrops on the window glass
The teacher hands out pencils in an unacceptable order
An on the board creates a dizzying misshapen border
You get up stomp over to her desk
The voices telling the true you to ‘Take a rest’
They fix border with in a snap
And fix the teacher with a vicious slap
You cannot control yourself, you listened to well
You begin to fight back as you hear the firebell
Smoke fills the room as students hurry out
Nobody remembers that you were even about
You fall to the floor, your lungs with no air
And you know right then that you’ll die right here
The voices scream under your table ‘Get at a right angle!’
You turn as they say ‘Fix your bangle!’
By now you are curled up in a ball
As firemen come in and you can't cry out as you begin to fall
Out of consciousness into death
And you are able to sigh ‘help…’ as you take your last breath
You could’ve survived if it wasn’t for those voices
Who towered over all other choices
OCD
The people who can’t control their ‘Why me?’
Why them, why not you?
Isn’t there something you could do?
Well yes, there is
Maybe read through an information page, take a quiz
Maybe do something useful with your wealth
Send some off to a charity helping those with issues with their mental health
But maybe, perhaps most of all
Provide some sort of cushioning for those who might fall
By becoming their friend, laugh at their jokes
Perhaps take them out to buy a couple cokes
Don’t bully them, it’s not always their fault
Sometimes it’s your fault that they don’t become an adult
Don’t fake that you have their pain
You'll never know if you might see them again
I don’t think i have to say anymore
Just call 03444775774
This is a poem about the truth behind mental illnesses. This is for a poetry festival at my school, enjoy!
