A Conversation Between Anxiety And Depression
- Reads 412
- Votes 13
- Parts 5
Complete Mon, Jun 24, 20196m
A brief look into the potential mind of a person suffering from anxiety and depression
All Rights Reserved
#16
genrecontest2019
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Tales of the Mind
Collection of short storiesComplete
Cold Water
[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ DepressionComplete
KNOW ME
I know you cry with silent tears, I know you lock yourself up so as not to make anyone feel bad, I know that you hide your demons under a smile, And you go through life terrified by what your mind treads And it tears your heart. But don't drown in you, Take out your tears Without Fear. The people who really love you It won't sink in your stormy sea And it won't let you sink, either And maybe I can't save you, But swim with you, And it's always goof to have someone to swim with. So please... StayComplete
It Doesn't Even Matter
Max is struggling, plain and simple. After dropping out of school two years ago to help his mom with the bills and losing his best friend, he's just kind of shut things out. His life has been in pure survival mode. Work, pay bills, survive. But things only getting more complicated when he's ripped away from everything he's ever known. His mom, never the most put together woman has an affair with her married boss and gets pregnant. Now she's decided to move them both to Beverly Hills and into his place! With new step siblings that hate him before they've even met and a man that thinks he can just jump in and be his father, Max has had just about enough of everything. On top of all that he's starting up school again, and with these new fancy rich kids, Max feels even more suffocated and out of place then he did before. Will Max figure out his place or fall farther and farther into the background suffocating?
Epeolatry
Further poetry; that which I cannot preemptively describe.
Fix Me, I'm Broken
Walking into an empty house is normal to me. I guess I got tired of saying 'I'm home' when nobody is home to reply. It wasn't always like this. I remember when our family was close. Now we don't see each other any more. We don't talk to each other. We don't eat with each other. We don't ACKNOWLEDGE each other. This all happened after my 'Mother' killed herself. My father blames me. This is my story about how I learned to not count on anyone else but myself. I'm broken. I'm used. No one can fix me. But when the New Boy in town tries to fix me, everything will change. Good change or Bad change, I don't know. Only time will tell. I want to enter this story in the #Wattys2015 please help me out and vote and comment on my story. I'll really appreciate it!!! #Wattys2015 COPYRIGHTED © 2014 BY Anallely ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ®Complete
Someone New ✓
"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboardComplete
Rays in the Dark
A collection of stories and poems depicting people's lives as they struggle with love, mental illnesses, and the everyday battles that life throws their way.Complete
Content Guidelines