i don’t know how to talk about this part. the part… where i’m not perfect. where i am a kid and i am tired. the part where sometimes, i just want to curl up, and close my eyes and let the darkness bury me for a really long time.

and i am falling, i am falling, i am falling. and maybe i pushed myself off this cliff once upon a time, but it’s not a decision. it was never a decision. it was you, all along, wasn’t it? squirming through my thoughts, and fucking up my head. 

i don’t know how to talk about this part. the part where i am a person. with limits, and flaws. a person who doesn’t always know what the answer is. 

so keep going. keep going. keep going. keep working, and working, and working, like if i grind my own marrow into word count it’ll build the future they never believed i could have from nothing.

until i can barely keep your my eyes open. and i’m not sure, but i think it’s 1 in the morning.

and i will hide in the darkness, and pretend nothing is wrong with this, and i am and productive, and functional, and everything is fine, because if i sacrifice enough pieces of myself, i can still compensate, all right…

I really did write this at 1a.m., for the record. Listen to the spoken word version here

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november 18th, 2019 (spoken word)

Hey guys! Just got some new recording gear in the mail (no more sad, staticky laptop mic!) so I thought I’d give it a test run, and recorded this, and I’m kind of ridiculously proud of it, so I hope you all like it too. Read the text here.

Song from patrickdearteaga.com. Traffic sound effects by fesliyanstudios.com. Poem by me.

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1a.m. (spoken word)

Just a quick spoken word I felt like doing a couple nights back! Check out the text to this poem here.

Crickets chirping from soundbible.com Music from patrickdearteaga.com (Both of these are used according to their licenses, royalty free.) Poem by me. 

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november 16, 2019

trigger warning: self harm mention

oh god. not again. could you please just shut up? no one has the time for another stupid teenager being dramatic about her problems like this. 

and if it’s passive, we probably shouldn’t worry. because you wouldn’t actually hurt yourself or anything. right, baby?

darling, you don’t have mental illness. you’re not even a writer. i mean, who are you kidding? this is just a phase, and i’m sure you’ll grow out of it someday.

so stuff cotton balls down your throat. ignore the gag reflex. it’s not your job to talk. so would you just goddamn shut up? this is a normal, happy society, after all.

and things are the way they are for a reason, you know. even if they’re stigmatized, and stupid, and horrible. and you’re just a kid. it’s not your job to interfere in the world like this. it’d do you some good to just learn to let go.

let. the. fuck. go. 

I’ve been berating myself for talking about mental health a lot of late. As always, though, I just want to say that this isn’t fact. None of the things in this poem are things I believe, they’re not even things there’s any reasonable evidence for. It’s mental health stigma, and it’s irrational, and it’s stupid, and I’m not sure where I picked it up from, but over the years, it’s something I’ve really internalized.

If these are thoughts you’ve had about yourself, I know not much I say will really change your mind, deep down–you have to do that, not me. But just know that for all the times it doesn’t feel like it, your voice matters, and there are people who would love to hear it. So whatever you’re going through, please keep fighting. And find a crisis line in your area hereif you need it. ❤


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are you proud of me?

are you proud of me? i’m sorry if i messed up. i know things have been rough lately. 

are you proud of me? do you still love me? did i do something wrong? i just need to know for sure. i don’t know who i am if someone else doesn’t approve of me.

so are you proud of me? is there anything i could have done better? thank you so much for even breathing in my presence, because i’m so terrified of being indebted to anybody.

are you proud of me? i’m sorry for using big words to talk about my problems, i just don’t know how else to communicate them, honestly.

are you proud of me? for growing as a person, and for having the mental stability to brush my hair and pick out a different outfit than yesterday? for not breaking down in the middle of class, and maintaining a steady social life, and telling my therapist that everything’s all right. when it’s not all right. but i have to say something, so… i guess that’s it. fine.

are you proud of me? for falling apart on the bathroom floor when no one’s watching, whispering apologies to the mirror.

over and over and over and over

Approval is really hard for me. I think with mental health, very few things are black and white. There’s a healthy degree of validation people need… and then there’s a point where your primary source of love, validation, encouragement isn’t inside you, it’s on the outside–and the problem with that is that that can be taken away from you at any time. Other people’s compliments, love, acceptance–we need it. I think having outside support is a lot more important, at least for me, than the world makes it out to be. But we also need to know that we can hold that love inside us. We need to be able to keep it going, even when there’s no one to support that–I don’t know, or maybe that’s wrong. I’m honestly a bit of a mess right now, so probably not the best person to give advice about this topic and all of these musings could very easily be wrong. 

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