pretending it’s a happy ending, or something like that

that feeling, after a therapy session, when for a couple hours, mental illness is just this vague little iceberg off in the distance. high heels and pop music and positive quotes and let’s just pretend nothing’s happened.

that feeling. slightly plastic. and you know it’s going to shatter, so just you wait for it. get black lipstick and waste your parents’ money and learn how to wear it, because maybe makeup can feel like normalcy. or something like that.

drown your thoughts in the flicker of the screen light for hours on end. because that’s easier than feeling anything at the moment.

today you saw the psychiatrist. you tried to pretend that mental illness was something pretty, or cute, because maybe that makes it easier to live with. and yeah, i admit it. i do that to myself. all the time, actually, to be honest.

and i know it seems like everything is going great on the outside. but when this is your life. when this monster is what you have to sleep beside… it just doesn’t feel that way, all right?

this isn’t a happy ending. i’m not okay. i’m not anywhere near okay. right now, it doesn’t even feel like i’m getting better. 

i don’t know who i am anymore.

Of late, numbness and burying my feelings, in general, have been… on my mind. I don’t know–of late, I’ve just been feeling really tired. I can get through the day, I can do everything I expect of myself, even maybe exceed those expectations some days. But once I’m done that to-do list? I just want to sleep. Or read, or hang out with friends–anything but being alone in my head. I don’t even know what I’m so scared of. It’s kind of ridiculous. But of late, I’ve just been feeling… really tired, of all of this. Not in a suicidal kind of way. Just in that kind of way where you wish you could make time stop, and you could close your eyes, and fall asleep, and just kind of… disappear for a while. Does that make sense?

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let me tell you about anxiety

let me tell you about anxiety

let me tell you about a thudding heart, and a racing mind, and you spin around in circles trying to find a way out, but there’s nowhere to hide. not when the monster lives on the inside.

let me tell you about paralyzed behind school bookshelves, because it’s all too loud, and overwhelming, and they’re all probably looking at you, and they’re going to hurt you. it’s just a matter of time.

let me tell you about holding your breath, and counting to ten, and trying to numb out all the blinding colours as best as you can.

let me try to explain the way the fear taunts you, and torments you, and plays with your head until you’d do anything to make it stop. even just for a minute.

let me tell you how exhausting it is to be this afraid. every. single. day. and then still force yourself to hold on to a steady face, and pretend you’re ok, but you’re not ok. this isn’t ok.

let me tell you about wiping the symptoms off your skin, only you can’t do that, so the next best thing is to just cover it in concealer, and mask it in foundation, and fake a smile, and maybe no one will notice me if i just try to fit in. 

let me tell you about anxiety, and maybe this time you’ll get it. maybe this time, you won’t lecture me, or change the topic every time i try to explain it.

let me tell you about anxiety, and maybe this time, we won’t be alone in it. because maybe you have monsters too. maybe you’ve been through your own shit.

let me tell you everything. let me tell you how scared, and confused, and tired i am of all of this. let me fall apart in your arms, and promise that you won’t hate me afterward.

because i am so, so tired. because it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok that it’s not ok. and i know it feels like the world is falling apart, but you’re going to be ok.

you are nothing less than human for feeling this way.

and on the bad days, i will repeat those words to myself through the scream of my thoughts until i can’t hear anything else. it’s gonna be ok.

This poem wasn’t written for anyone specifically, I don’t think. (Or if it was, I don’t know who that person is.) Maybe, like, the world as a whole? (Ugh, that sounds really grandiose.) Anyway, I hope it meant something to you. And if it did, feel free to drop me a comment/email via my contact form/leave a like. 🙂

the night wears on

fingers on the glass. it’s raining, again. and i want to throw up for no apparent reason.

and maybe this is what the future means. i don’t know.

i remember being ten. i remember when all of this felt so far off in the distance.  a vague cartoon of the world i live in. and maybe that’s horrible. but i still miss it.

i remember reading the news. and how it’s almost always bad. how some days, it just feels like the world is coming to an end.

how static whispers through my head. and i close my eyes. and i let myself drown in it.

I live in Canada, and I wrote this poem the night of our election–October 21st. I was feeling really anxious about it, and I guess–this helped a bit.


trigger warning: blood used as a metaphor

in my dreams, there is blood on my hands. there is blood all around me. and i think the world is going to end, but don’t worry. it’s just another tuesday.

in my dreams, we run around your yard singing songs from the lion king, and screaming from the top of bookshelves, and i miss you already. 

in my dreams, i stare into the void, but… i don’t mind, honestly. 

in my dreams, we make tea, and watch over the garden wall together. because halloween. and it’s scary, but in the end everything always turns out okay. i wish it could be that way in reality.

in my dreams, we look at the stars from your trampoline and i explain the multiverse theory. and in that moment, i have never felt more lucky to be here. with you. exactly as i am. it’s a really good feeling.

i wake up at 7. and both of you are still sleeping.  every time i glance over you, all i can see is you leaving.

When this poem talks about leaving, it’s not talking about suicide, or being abandoned by choice by a friend. It’s talking about death, and death being inevitable at some point. Which is something that’s really been bugging me of late. That… at some point, everyone I love is gonna die. Yeah.

a safe place

there’s a spot by the river i found today. where the rushing water will drown out my thoughts. where the trees will hide me. where my fear will never find me. and you won’t, either. not for now, anyway.

no one’s judging you

and i’ll just lie there. staring up at the blinding blue sky for what feels like eternity. 

no one’s gonna take your life away.

it’s been a really long day. you know that? because it’s exhausting. always being so scared like this. heart pounding, and stomach churning, and sirens going off in your chest. seeing catastrophes, where other people just see awkward conversations, or getting “only” 80% on school assignments.

you haven’t hurt anyone. 

sometimes, i just want to close my eyes and dream. because it’s been such a long time since i’ve actually seen myself as a human being.

this won’t last forever. you’re gonna be okay.