Well here I am.
I don’t know what I am even starting.
I don’t know what parts of my brain are about to open up,
What’s about to leak out…
But here I am.
I’ve struggled with anxiety and bipolar depression most of my life.
I finally went to a therapist when I was 14 years old.
I was diagnosed,
The hatred for that stupid label
The hatred for that stupid label.
But you need a label to treat it,
But you know what really bugs me?
When people my age post all over social media.
About how alone they feel,
How depressed they feel
I guess me being a person like me
A person struggling with the label and the illness
I don’t like talking about it.
I don’t like posting about it.
I don’t like sharing.
I just keep to myself
That’s why I don’t understand the point of social media
If all we are going to do is make everyone sad
I want to see posts of peoples cats chasing a toy
Not a girl chasing a boy
I want to see dogs playing with sticks
Not guys playing will chicks.
I want to see happiness and joy
Not sadness and gloom
I don’t understand why people are okay with putting that out for everyone to see
It is not okay to be depressed
It is not a trend to post on people's twitter feeds.
It is a serious thing and I am hurt
I am stunned
How has it become such a stupid trend
I sit here in bed, I can’t move.
I don’t want to
I don’t want to start a new day
I don’t want to see what that day will have in play
I don’t want to come out and play
Because my depression isn’t a trend
But all this social media Buzz
Has got my head Dizzy with all this
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
I feel like my depression is inadequate...
My depression is real though... and it is not something to make fun
Let me explain
Bipolar depression is quite cruel
It’s like I give myself false hope every once in awhile.
I’ll think that maybe
My sadness is finally gone
That I’ve defeated my depression
And that I’m feeling well again.
But the day after
I wake up
With a feeling
A feeling of a ton of bricks
On my body
Breaking my body
Feeling like a NObody
Not allowing me to get out of bed.
I feel unable to do anything
I have this weight of sadness
And why do you ask?
I guess I couldn’t really tell you.
There are reasons for my depression but the overwhelming, dwelling, sadness just comes from nowhere
I find myself in an unknown sadness.
I don’t get better for weeks.
I push myself down and feel weak
In a hole,
In a pit.
My way out
My way out.
Sometimes it takes a day or two.
But other times
It takes a month or two.
But then there is the light
My happiness right?
There is my false hope
There is my almost happiness
I always crash
I always fall
And I don’t know if it will ever end
So I have to learn to deal with it
I have to learn to deal with my anxiety too.
The weird thoughts and crazy things
The inability to call and order a pizza
To ask the waiter for a refill for my drink
To ask where the damn bathroom is
Or having to resight what I want to order a thousand times
Or the even worse anxiety of all
The anxiety that trips up my depression
The anxiety that makes me second guess myself
The messed up thoughts
If buildings will collapse
If there were a fire what I would do
Always having my wallet, my lisence near by
Because if I were to crash and not make it
They could find my identification
They could notify my mother
The weird thoughts
What if I were to drive off the road
What if I were to pull the steering wheel
If I drove off this bridge I would probably die
My anxiety is my worse fear.
And I know after hearing that
You’ll tell me I am suicidal
But I promise you I am not.
This a normal thing with people who struggle with this type of anxiety.
And it’s weird dealing with at first,
I thought what you thought too
Maybe I just want to die
That would make the most sense.
But god dammit I don’t want to die.
As sad as I am,
I don’t want to die.
I want to live
I want to live a life I am happy in.
And what I don’t understand is that people these days
They take this term of anxiety and they put it in their heads
Do you want this?
Do you want the constant wonder of your subconscious telling you these things?
Making you wonder these things?
Do you want that?
Take it away from me
Take it away from everyone dealing with this.
Take it away so you can post
Post about how bad your anxiety is
I am not here to post
I am here to tell you the truth.
The truth of what I go through
With this label in one hand
And my mind in the other
I don’t want to go on social media to see how sad you think are
That’s what therapy is for
That’s what friends are for
That’s what I am here for
To tell you the story of someone with bipolar depression
To tell you the story of how you make me feel so damn stupid
That my illness isn’t real
That my illness is stupid
And that the term illness is overused
When it comes to anxiety, depression, sadness, confusion.
Reach out to somebody,
Don’t wait around for somebody
You are the only somebody to do the job
And make yourself better
You aren’t weak for reaching out,
I just bag you,
Please reach out
To your mom,
To your dad
To your family that loves you
To whoever you love.
Don’t post these things on social media,
Yell them to the people that care and something will happen
You will know how to deal with your depression.
You will know how to deal with your problems.
I just bag you,
Well here I am.