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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“you didn’t have to do any of this” (spoken word)

Oh boy, this was recorded at, like, 11:20p.m. after having procrastinating on it for a week, so if I sound absolutely exhausted in this, it’s kind of because I was when recording. But I hope it turned out okay anyway. 🙂

Music from

Read the text to this poem here

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“you didn’t have to do any of this…”

if i don’t talk about it, it won’t exist. if i don’t think about it, i won’t hurt anyone, and eventually i’ll stop being like this. 

if i laugh loud enough. if i smile wide enough. if i colour-coordinate my outfits…

because i don’t deserve to express symptoms of mental illness. i don’t deserve to take up your time. i don’t deserve to feel alive, except for from 9pm to midnight.

i don’t deserve the look you get in your eyes. like maybe you actually think i’m gonna do something in my life. i don’t deserve the followers, or the friends, or the nice comments, or the likes. and i’m sorry for letting on like i was someone i wasn’t, all right?

this must be a mistake. i don’t think you get it. i’m just a person. and i’m kind of falling apart at the moment. and i can’t comprehend how anyone could possibly see this mess of a mind in all its honesty and still think i’m worth it.

i mean. i couldn’t.

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“people with self-esteem are stupid”

trigger warning: self-harm, general heavy and potentially triggering content

i. self-destruction is the only worthwhile thing about me. so i’ll smile wide as i tear myself apart, and then take a selfie. because it’s cute, right? totally.

and my past rolls out behind me. and the future looms before me, and someone say something please tell me i’m not  making this up, because everywhere i look all i can see is the world ending–

ii. it’s been a while. and the self-harm marks are finally fading. which should be a good thing. but even the idea of not having physical validation of the fact that i am sick is terrifying. 

the idea of being better is terrifying. because i’ve never really seen myself without this anxiety, like the cat who came back constantly trailing behind me. 

iii. and it hurts. and it hurts. and it hurts. but it also leaves. and i know who i am.  i know who i want to be.

i am the first step forward. i am a shaking hand, extended toward yours. i am thunder, and rain, and lightning, and words like a snowstorm. 

and i am not anxiety. i was never anxiety. or any of the other shit you liked to tell me. i’m me. i always have been, and i always will be. and you can try. but i don’t think you’ll ever be able to take that away from me. 

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trying to explain my mental illness to a dysfunctional society

you see, there’s a voice in my head that won’t stop screaming at me. and it has this way, of making me feel like i’ll never stop falling into the fault lines of my brain, except i don’t want you to know that, because if there’s one thing more terrifying than the idea of being rejected, it’s being rejected when i’ve shown you every single part of me, and every single part of me is still not enough for you to love me. and i guess i usually feel like you’re at the verge of leaving me, and when you start seeing things that way,  in your head, it can escalate pretty quickly. and i guess i can be a little bit dramatic sometimes because of my condition, and even though i didn’t choose this, i’m sorry.  i fall apart out of nowhere sometimes so please be patient with me. and please understand i’m not doing this because i want to hurt you. i’m doing this because there is a voice in my head that won’t stop screaming at me, and sometimes i just can’t take it, and somehow bringing pain upon myself makes it… stop. for a second. and if i hide in the bathroom for hours on end and break all the mirrors in my skull because the idea of being seen by anyone, including myself, makes me want to claw my face off, please don’t laugh at me. even if you wouldn’t laugh at me. even if i was eight, and it’s just a memory that keeps echoing through my brain, and maybe a memory is why i can’t breathe every time i have to walk through a hallway. but all i honestly want right now is for you to hold my hand. and listen to me.

wow, this started out being about self-esteem and ended up being… something else completely. i wasn’t expecting that, but i like this version much better than the original, anyway.

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