You think low self-esteem is "cute"
"attention seeking"
"fishing for compliments"
"just a girl thing"--
how wrong you are, my friend.
You call anxiety "nervousness" or even "being shy"--
though not completely wrong--
it is so much more than that.
Your interpretation of depression is just being sad--
nothing of the mind is that simple,
that one dimensional.
You define OCD as wanting things to be neat--
if only you truly understood.
You use the term "bipolar" oh so casually,
like it means being mildly moody, or fickle;
nothing could be further from the truth.
True mental illness, my friend, is not pretty.
It's not romantic,
cute,
rational,
a funny quirk,
a joke,
being too sensitive,
or simple.
Living with monsters in your head is anything but easy--
it's a constant battle (such torture),
often leaving you exhausted with no explanation.
Many times, you want to die--
you feel worthless, like you don't deserve anything good;
you hate yourself.
Inadequacy haunts your dreams and thoughts,
whispering its lies to you until you believe them.
Those uncontrollable urges drive you mad--
you must do this or you'll die,
or you simply just have to;
you find comfort in small routine rituals.
There's unspeakable amounts of dread and irrational terror--
you feel sick,
you can barely breathe,
your hands start to shake.
You gotta move--
quickly, now!
Buy that thing!
Do this activity!
Or just kill yourself,
lay in bed all day,
not talk to anyone.
Do you, perhaps, understand now?
Maybe just a little?
Mental illness is not romantic, not at all beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
Monsters Inside My Head
PoetryWARNING: Some pieces may contain triggers for those who struggle with any form of depression or self harm. Please read with caution. I will often rearrange the chapters in the way I see fit, so please be patient and keep that in mind. This is my fir...
