Break the Silence. Fight the Stigma

For those who feel alone. . . .
For those who feel like they suffer, alone. . .
For those who suffer in silence. . . .
This is for you.

You are never alone.



I didn't want to get out of bed. My motivation has left me.
I feel everything, and nothing, all at once.
I struggle to remember little task.
I struggle to do the dishes
I struggle to be a good parent.
Remember when you called me lazy?
I'm honestly not trying to be.
I'm in pain. In pain from not feeling anything.
But who cares. Not me, not anyone.

I cry. Yet, I know not what for.
Maybe it's a yearning to love.
To be happy like the rest.
Knowing that I must fight everyday
just to be in a decent mood.
I lose some, I win some.
The battles in my head are unrelenting.
They are constant.

I'm scared. I'm afraid of failure.
I'm afraid of rejection.
I panic over small things
"Don't stress. Don't get anxious".
But it's what I'm good at. It's what I know.
I'm scared I'll be walking my whole life, trying to find the light.
It feels like a constant dead end.
A cruel joke.

Remember when I asked for help?
"You don't need help, you just need to change the way you see things."
"Don't medicate. It's addictive."
"People will think you are crazy."
"Why do you want to ruin things? Don't you want to be happy?"
"You just need to exercise."
"Change your diet."
"Stop being so fucking lazy."
"Get a job."
"Get off your ass."
"You need Jesus"
"It's all in your head."
It's all in my head.
There has never been a truer statement.
It never leaves.
Do you think I want to go through this.
Do you think I don't want to feel nothing and everything all at once?
Do you think I don't want to be productive?
I have prayed for 26. Fucking. Years.
Why me, God? Why?
Please heal me!
Done.
I've heard it all. From everyone.
But I can't be selfish.
Why would they understand?
Why would anyone understand?
I wouldn't want them to.
I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
But I also yearn for you to understand.


Maybe, I should make my exit.
I think about this.
I get a sick smile thinking of those that actually care.
Then I get physically sick thinking of those who actually care.
Then I see my kids.
I vomit.
"Why?"
They would go through their lives.
Asking.
That.
Question.
The love I have for them, and the love they have for me.
You see, sometimes, it's hard to see it.
Sometimes my head ignores those.
Then I get that text,
That phone call,
Reminding me why I'm here.

I have seen the light.
I have seen happiness.
I have seen hell.
I have seen despair.
I have come out on top, only to fall again.
Over and over.
But it's okay.

I'm a fighter.
I'm a survivor.
I push on.
I know i'm loved
And I know I don't suffer alone.

I'm a Doctor
A Teacher
An Actor
A Mother
A Father
A Grandparent
A Christian
An Atheist

You see, this darkness does not discriminate.
It doesn't care if you are rich, or poor.
If you are loved by all or loved by a few.
It doesn't just go away with wishful thinking.
It takes work.
It may seem trivial at best,
But at best, it's our lives.
Break the silence.
Fight the Stigma.