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what the **** is happening to me? I am losing myself again and this time I cannot even blame anyone because no one is at fault here, it's me and my mind.
Am I depressed? 
Am I mad?
what is this?
How can I figure what is going on with me?
what is this feeling?
I am not missing anyone, I am not talking to anyone, I am doing nothing which can mess with my head, maybe it's the nothing which is making me mad or maybe I was never okay?
Maybe I was just distracted from the reality and was living in delusion?
maybe my mind is still the same? 

I want to figure this out before it's too late or maybe it is too late? what am I even talking about?
I was writing my journal and I was not able to remember what happened today, which is weird and not okay. It's been happening for days now and I cannot figure out what is going on with me.
It won't be a silent
night this Christmas in
the Psych Ward.
There are some real
wack jobs in here.
One guy grabbed his crotch,
and said, 'I have hold of all my faculties.'
The nurse asked him what
drugs he was on,
He said, 'It's not the drugs that are
the problem, it's the women.'
Maybe he's not as crazy as I thought.
I shouldn't talk; I'm getting
ECTs (Electra Convulsive Therapy)
One of the side effects is
memory loss. I hope they make me
forget the last woman in my life.
Life is so odd.
I'm locked in the nuthouse,
getting shock treatments.
She's home in her apartment,
cooking and cleaning,
crazy and mean as a ****-house rat.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucOOifTukWQ
Blessednonye Jan 6
They said I’m vulnerable,
That I always apologize.
Even when I’m wronged,
I apologize.

I know I’m vulnerable,
And people use me a lot.
They think I’m not aware,
They handle fragile hearts like glass, cracking them without care.
Because they are weak and easy to put aside.

People know I’m vulnerable,
But I will never let them use me again.
I will stand up for myself,
Say no to things I don’t want,
And caution anyone who tries to mess with me.
I won’t do anything I don’t like for anyone,
I won’t displease myself to please anyone.

Because I’m vulnerable, not stupid.
I am vulnerable and not stupid
labyrinth Jan 6
Miserable when hardly inhaled
Indifferent as long as prevailed
i

fall

deeper

into

a

pit

never

even

looking

up

never

seeing

the

sun

a

dist­ant

pinprick

of

light

never

to

see

again

i

dont

deserve

it

i

dont

deserve

anything
its not a very good one so just... bye
Let me tell you a story:
A life unfolds, layered and vast,
Haunted by shadows, shaped by the past.
A spirit resilient, striving to be strong,
Carrying burdens we’ve all borne too long.

Dreams of creating, of tales untold,
A pen in hand, a heart seeking gold.
Yet whispers of doubt, relentless and slight,
Echo, "You’re not enough," in the still of the night.

Through love and loss, through joy and pain,
We weather storms, again and again.
Our hearts, battlefields; our minds, a maze,
Still searching for beauty in shadowed haze.

Families fracture; the pieces retreat,
Strength is forged where chaos meets defeat.
The yearning for love, for something secure,
A place where our souls might finally endure.

Our voices speak of longing, of finding our way,
Of nights spent alone, of hopes for the day.
Shadow work deepens; truths come to light,
Healing old wounds in the quiet of night.

We love with hearts both tender and fierce,
Though doubts linger on, and old wounds pierce.
In small, quiet moments, joy does reside—
A sunrise, a friend, a pet by our side.

We seek no labels, no rigid mold,
Just freedom to live, to grow, to unfold.
We are not broken; we are wonderfully real,
Tapestries woven of all that we feel.

Our stories are ours, messy and bright,
Dances between darkness and chasing the light.
Though questions remain, we’re carving our way,
Souls ever growing, day by day.
Cristin Dec 2024
Hold... 2, 3, 4…
and breathe... 2, 3, 4…

I’ve been having nightmares lately.  
I wake and realize I’ve been holding my breath,
A weight settling heavy in my chest,
As if I'm suspended in a moment,
waiting for someone to come and save me.
To stimulate my breath, like a newly born baby placed on mom's chest.

Recently, that person to save me, is me.
A different kind of a responsibility.  
A kind of “safe place", very new to me.  
Almost seems a little like, insanity.  
Or should I really say, codependency?

I wonder if there is someone out there who wants to share the responsibility,
To take on the task of reducing my stress and enhancing my breath,
Until death, an eternal start.

Is it me that tears my intimate relationships apart?  
Until all I have for show are broken pieces?  
Should I wait to pursue love until the pain of my past eases?  

To wait would be to waste.
The boundless love I have, filled with grace.  
I would love to share this with another, post haste.

For love is the greatest gift on earth.  
I will not stand by while it becomes suppressed.
A generational curse.  
Everyone deserves to love and be loved in return.  
God is love, and with Godly love, one cannot be burned.  

And as I maintain my breathe in the hope of the good to come next,
I release the past—the shadows that suppress,
so much of the confidence I have left.

I choose to believe in and embrace the warmth of love that with patience, will take shape.
For in every breath, a promise awaits.
Purified and reborn in Christ.
He is worth every sacrifice.

For God's word is like a lamp at my feet, my path is made clear.  
Not only will I survive but I will have no fear.
My divine destiny is near.


Cristin M. Wright
Amber Dec 2024
Everyone is out having fun,
While I’m on the run
Running for my thoughts, for my body
I miss the feeling
As free as a bird
As safe as being saved
The feeling when you hear your favorite song and suddenly,
Spinning stops, time stops, pain is no longer pain, scars get healed,
but they’re too deep to be stitched
Wire doesn’t exist
“There’s no wire, I’m sorry”
I would give my all,
Search the whole room
The door locked, key thrown away
Just me alone inside the dark room
What if, the room was my mind
This is a personal poem
Chelsea Quigley Dec 2024
When life gives rain,
The clouds they form.
The sun it hides
Through bangs of storm.

The ground is wet,
As your steps are small.
But what will happen
If you let yourself fall?

Oh yes it hurts,
You feel it for days.
But your wounds they heal
As the pain it fades.

And remember the rain?  
That once poured high.
Now look outside

At the sun in the sky.
This poem is based on having faith and hope through rough times in life <3
Flea Dec 2024
I am a misfit since age 14
I used to have friends before then
But they all turned out to be fake
I was a misfit since age 14
But that don’t mean broken
Crayons can not colour
Of  I am a misfit….
Not dead
I have  been a misfit age 14
Being misunderstood  for
Everything and everything
But this I will say now I am
36 and I am no longer a
Misfit
I am a someone who matters
With I fit in or not
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