Heavy

07-24-17

I think God would forgive me,

If I gave up.

But I know he wants me to keep going...

And I was going to write another fistfight poem for Chester,

But my hands are heavy and tired.

I think it's safe to say that a lot of us battling mental illness,

fight every moment,

And we're tired.

Chester, I listened to your song "Heavy " every day when it first came out.

It comforted me to know that someone else got it.

That it's not that easy to just snap out of it,

And that when you're in that dark place called depression,

all you want is relief,

But the monsters keep chasing us in our sleep...

Paralyzing us so all we do is sleep.

All I do is sleep.

And the worst part is not recognizing who I am anymore.

And knowing that this won't just go away.

I feel like a failure most days.

Mental Illness is a heavy load to carry.

So let this poem be my plea to God,

To give me rest.

I'm about out of fight,

But I know one day I'll be happy I chose life...

"I'm holding on.

Why is everything so heavy?

I keep dragging around what's bringing me down,

If I just let go I'd be set free."

And now I'm holding on to the end of my rope.

And when I hear of someone committing suicide,

It breaks me, deeply.

I've heard the awful things that people say about people like us, Chester...

But I also hear the whispering echo of angels begging us to live.

I don't feel like fighting,

My body is heavy,

And these hands are weak,

But I'm gonna live.

Staying the course has never been harder,

But I'm holding on,

I'm gonna live...

I promise.

I was gonna write another fistfight poem,

An angry poem about how the world doesn't understand mental illness,

But all I have left is this small whisper asking me to live.

So I am asking the world to Listen to the whisper,

and

Keep whispering the words, over and over until it becomes an echo of angels singing the same song.

Our hands are heavy, but

Let us live,

Let us love.

Let us never give up.

Mental illness won't win.

We're going to live.