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My Journey Through Depression

A Poem

By Nick ClintonPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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The need for sleeping pills

Has never been greater.

The need for something sharp

Is so fucking strong

The wish for all the pain to stop

Has been said many times before

If only someone were able to take it all away

If it could all just stop

The voices in your head, the constant state of paranoia, the compulsive need to release it all with a knife

What would it be like then?

Would it be quite?

Peaceful?

Or would you miss it so much that you would need to have it all back?

The feeling of being useless

Is always there

The feeling that you are alone

Never goes away

That no one wants you around

That you are the asshole who can't do anything right

Like you're the biggest mistake on the face of the earth

Like the world would be better off without you in it

The wish for it to all stop without hurting yourself or someone else

Is your biggest one

The wish that people knew what was going on in your brain

Will never be granted

Someone please tell them to stop

Stop screaming in your head

Stop forcing you to think things you don't want to

Stop the burning pain in your arm

The pounding in your head

Just make it stop now please

Maybe if you could think for yourself

You wouldn't be like this

You can't help that the voices in your head control your life

You can't help wanting to die

Feeling scared out of your mind

Not being able to sleep till 6 in the morning

Afraid that if you do the demons will come get you

Not being able to eat

Because it makes you feel worse about yourself

Starving yourself till you can't take it anymore

Then you eat so much that you throw up

And you feel like shit so you take a razor and cut to make it stop

It does for a split second then it's back

So you keep going

Till the towel is soaked with blood

And you're laying on the floor in a ball crying

So you say to yourself

What the fuck did I just do

This is not who I am

So you move on with your life

Covering up the marks however you can

Making sure no one can see them

Making sure you don't end up in a hospital

And then the same cycle repeats

Till you can't take it anymore

Then you force yourself to get help

You try and seek out

But when no one listens

It keeps getting worse

So you make yourself call the suicide hotline

You lock yourself in your room till the police arrive

Then you go to the hospital

And recovery takes place

Soon enough you're let out

You feel like you can start again

Then the voices start coming back

The feelings are ever so stronger

You fake your way through everything

With a fake smile, a fake laugh

You stay away from your friends

You shut yourself in your room

Never coming out when people are present

Turning off all the lights and staring at your wall

Because you can't bring yourself to get out of bed

Can't bring yourself to eat

Can't bring yourself to get out of bed

You get yelled at for being lazy

You start to feel worse and worse

Your parents drag you outside to be social

You sit there and mope till you go home

You get yelled at for not being social

You fight with your parents

And when the fight ends

You lay there and cry

You shut off the lights, lock the door, and cry

You remember the nights you cut

The burning feeling starts to come back

The compulsive need

You replay the fight in your head over and over again

You say to yourself it's your fault.

That you can't do anything right

That you deserve to feel like this

The need gets stronger and stronger

But you force yourself to not do it

You see the blood stained towel across the room on the floor

You lay there and ponder at the thought

You decide it's better off you just sleep

You try everything you can

But nothing seems to work

The voices in your head are far too loud

The feelings are much too strong

You wait till the early hours of the morning

Sneak out to go buy sleep meds

To see if they'll help you

Come back and your mom heard you leave

She sits there waiting for you to tell her what you were doing

You try to explain but she doesn't want to believe it

She takes the bottle from you and locks it away

You run upstairs crying and lock yourself in your room

The feeling gets stronger yet again

You can’t control it

So you get the razor and you cut again and again

Repeating the same cycle as before

Cut, wipe, repeat. Cut, Wipe, Repeat

You hope that one day someone will understand

But no one will never understand

They may say they do

But they don’t

They tell you they’ve been there

And you want to believe it

But you can’t

So you move on with your life

Waiting for the day

When everything can stop

You drop a lot of weight

Your family thinks you are anorexic

You try to tell them what’s happening

But they don’t listen

Why should they?

It doesn’t concern their well being so why should they

You ask your parents to see a therapist

They say no at first, but after hours of begging and pleading they finally agree

Your therapy starts

You tell them what is happening

All the feelings, the cutting, the fear

They try and help you to figure out coping methods

And some of them sound interesting enough to try

So you try them

They seem to work at first but then they don’t

You tell the therapist that the methods don’t work anymore.

They decide it’s time to involve the parents

You beg them not to bring your parents into this

But they do it anyway

Your parents are shocked to find out what you have done to yourself

You tell them that you tried to tell them but they wouldn’t listen

They argue against that

You tell the therapist that you were the one to call the suicide hotline, that you were the one who tried reaching out to every person she could, that after 3 fucking miserable hours of begging, your parents finally agreed to let you see a therapist

They simply nod their head as they listen to what you say

Your parents, with a look of disgust on their face, sit there silently, waiting to speak up again

Your therapist talks before they do

Then the session has to end

You reschedule an appointment for sometime in the next week

You go home and get yelled yet again

That’s the fifth time this week

You go to your room and cry

Your mom comes in to yell at you for crying

To shut up for once

You go to bed early and wake up late

You sit in bed and wonder why it had to be you

Wonder how life would be if you didn’t have this

Wonder if it will all stop

Wonder

If or when you can be happy again

sad poetry
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