#mentalillness

407 posts
  • littlebird31 5d

    I guess you could say I'm upset.

    Upset that babies are kicked across living rooms while they play the roll of soccer ball at a party they aren't supposed to be at.

    Upset that three-month-olds are left with men their mothers just met, barely know but kind of like, to be fondled and touched and who really knows what happened that day because it was me and him and my memory doesn't go back that far.

    Upset that kids are screamed at and spanked before they are ever understood.

    Upset that I'm standing before a fortune wheel with the traumas of my past on it, spinning and spinning and spinning, and I'm trying to pin point which one gave me PTSD but they all look like a worst case scenario that I did not sign up for.

    I guess you could say I'm upset that my life was put in the hands of irresponsible people, that I have to heal from a childhood that looked a lot more like a war zone than what my peers described as happy.

    I'm upset I have to forgive you for things my memory will not allow me to remember.

    I'm upset that what is preached is not practiced.

    I guess I'm upset because what you did to me will always affect me.
    ©littlebird31

  • _riggy_ 1w

    ©_riggy_

  • _riggy_ 1w

    Avoiding mirrors has always been a thing
    Not sure how it came about
    But everytime I'm feeling good
    And I see myself, I never look like me
    And to be honest it freaks me out.
    ©_riggy_

  • maliciouslybrutal 1w

    Beautifully Insane. Nothing Wrong With This Brain

    It really is no secret that in today's society the majority of the female population suffer greatly from anxiety, depression, lack of sleep and constant worry. It isn't that women choose to feel this way, it's just human nature to be cautious of our surroundings. But how far is too far when it comes to your own mind? A phone call in the middle of the night "he's cheating", words that don't add up "he's cheating", a woman's voice, a message on social media. Anything is a trigger to those who suffer from chronic anxiety, honestly there is no cure. A pill can temporarily relieve you of the pain, but it never fully takes away from the emotional pain you go through. Even then taking a pill to relieve 5 minutes of your suffering is better than living 5 years of emotional torture. It's pretty serious when you need instant relief of pain, even if it doesn't last long. That's why most who suffer from this end up becoming addicted to medications. It's not the brand or the shape that people get addicted too, its that sheer volume of relief you get, almost like coming up from the water to take a big breath. Suddenly the pain is gone, you feel invincible and the thought of your pain never comes to mind, until it wears off and you find yourself taking more and more. People don't mean to get addicted to medications, it really isn't their intention to become addicted. If you think about it, the pills aren't what make people addicted, it's the effect that it gives you so they keep coming back for more and more because they love that moment of clarity they felt. You can get addicted to anything, the biggest addiction we face is cyberspace but no one wants to admit it. For every question, google has answer, for every symptom, web MD has a sollution, for every need, craigslist has it in bulk and for every thought, feeling or emotion facebook has an emoji, gif aand background to fullfil whatever it is youre needing to say.

    So what if I told you that over thinking is actually an addiction, And that the results of it end in obession. It is true, your mind is like a sponge, everything you've said, done, heard or experienced just doesn't go away, it's still there in your brain just waiting for an opportunity to come out. I'm a normal 28 year old. I am usually very outgoing and bubbly and nothing usually gets me down. Aside from reaching the end of a netflix binge or caseys not delivering during the week, i really dont have much to complain about... actually, that was a total lie, but it sounded good right? But you see? That is just it, were forced to lie and forced to pretend we're all fine because the sudden hint of a problem and people have issues. With our issues.... yeah i know. Its fucked up.. I wish I could just lie to everyone and say I've overcome all my trials but I can't because I haven't. It would be nice if I "myself" could make sense of all of this but that would mean life was easy and it really isn't.

    In a perfect world, id sleep 9 hours a night, id be able to eat 3 meals a day, I would have a smile on my face every minute. In a perfect world life would be easy but sadly our world is far from perfect. My life consists of having insomnia so bad that I don't sleep for days, I hardly eat, when i do eat I pick at my food and I push it around on my plate, I drink red bull everyday because I'm so worn down that without caffeine I wouldn't even be human, I take unisom sleep gels every day because it cuts the edge of my anxiety. I take it So i don't feel anything and I take it because sleeping through depression seems easier than fighting it. Which in my reality here an over the counter dose of diphenhydramine seems better than an actual script of antidepressants lingering in your bathroom medicine cabinet. At least when i have guests and they use my bathroom and assuming that theyre nosey they wont nave to ask questions to themselves because all they will think is "oh she just has trouble sleeping" not "woah what on earth does she need Prozac, lithium and ambien for"? While they ask themselves questions regarding the contents of ones medicine cabinet, i ask "why the hell are they going through it in the first place? Ismt anything private anymore?"

    What makes a person deteriorate to the point where they can't even function like a normal human being? The truth is, our lives are a constant target for anything to be thrown our way.  Do you know how it feels to be captive by your own mind? To always suspect the worst because that is all you seem to know? Do you know how it feels to see your husband do something so innocent like checking the mail and suspect he's cheating on you? This is what anxiety and depression does to you. But fear not there is a sollution, just take two of these a day with a large glass of water before a meal but dont operate heavy machinery because while these pills are burning holes through your stupid fucking damaged brain, they will also make you forget how to be an actual human. You can loose yourself but God forbid you drive a car.... Doctors tell you that you need counseling, that you need to be on medication, that you aren't stable minded. They know how to diagnose you and how to write a script for you but if you think about it, They never ask you why you feel the way you do. If doctors spent more time talking to us than evaluating us, maybe our medicated population would become slimmer. In the end just having someone to talk to could make the world of a difference.

    A person who has chronic anxiety is immediately labled as unstable, you're crazy for freaking out over a scene in a movie, you're labeled as paranoid when the smallest word makes you think your partner is or has been unfaithful, shame on you for spending the day in bed crying in your pillow, you become selfish when you don't acknowledge the beautiful day that is upon you, stop being immature because crowds of people aren't there to hurt you. My God how sorry i am that what unspeakable horrors ive faced in my life became a problem for you.

    Its attention like this, that make people like me fear the worst about the world. Because how can we trust the world when the world is the reason we are the way we are. Its a shame that innocent people are suffocating under the pressure that the universe puts on us to be normal. 
    You applaud the girl who stands up for her rights as a woman, yet you judge the woman on antidepressants. You support the man who came from nothing and became something, yet judge the men who are afraid to leave the house due to the fear of being ridiculed by the public. You despise the mother who killed her children simply because she suffered a serious form of postpartum depression yet applaud the mother killing her children before they even took their first breath outside of the womb, because if a doctor assists you in a clinical abortion then its okay, you just cant kill your kids because you were depressed, it has to be done by a doctor because its your right as a woman to choose... What in the actual fuck? Murder is murder, you cannot be disgusted by murder then be 100% supportive of murder. Murder is murder no matter what term you link it too. You support the officers who protect us, then bash the officers for giving you a ticket for speeding, you spend all day giving thanks for what you have then trample people to death for 20% off merchandise. This is how sick and twisted our world has actually become, it's no wonder why the majority of people spend their days inside...

    Do you see now what I mean? How can the people of this world who suffer from mental illness, have faith that they will be treated equally when the entire human race is two faced. This is why so many lgbt  members are afraid to come out of hiding, because what kind of person is born a girl but wants to be a boy could have any kind of a future? A transgender must obviously be mentally ill to want to dress drag. Everyone in the lgbt community are branded as mentally unstable, cause they just aren't normal. Really???!! It's so freaking sad that you have to brand someone unstable all because they choose to live their life the way they want. I get so angry when i see beautiful people being slaughtered over social media because of their sexual prefrence, gender, race or religion. Im among the few who actually accept people as they are .

    The world that surrounds us is to blame for our insecurities. They have a pill for each kind of illness, symptom and feeling yet there is no pill made for the human race that will snap reality back in place.

    The only kind of resolution we need is remembering how to be human.
    ©maliciouslybrutal

  • geometricsphere 1w

    Depersonalisation

    I've abused the word "love" so much
    It's second nature to me now.

    I have no excuse for the things I have done,
    For the person I have become.

    I am nothing of who I used to be,
    Nothing of who I aspire to be.

    Maybe that's why I bought the pills.

    Maybe that's why I feel so out of place,
    Because there is no place for me
    In a world that I have created and aspired for my future self.

    Because I do not welcome the type of people that I am now.

    Because, in a sense,
    I am

    Nothing
    To


    Myself

    ©geometricsphere

  • _riggy_ 1w

    Gotta stopped thinking,
    It's driving her insane.
    She's thinking in the past,
    She's getting depressed again.
    She wants things to change,
    But can't see the light.
    Life seems unfair,
    It's becoming harder every day.
    When triggers happen,
    It takes her mind back.
    Happiness never seems to last.
    She just wants her life back.

    ©_riggy_

  • _riggy_ 1w

    Even in the darkness moments

    I know it won't last.

    I just got to be strong enough

    to ride it out and let this pass



    ©_riggy_

  • time_echoes 2w

    Healing

    People say i am healed
    As pills go down my throat
    People say i am okay
    Because of this

    But mental illness can not be healed
    With just chemicals

    ©time_echoes

  • starry_nightsky 2w

    Numb

    Into two you'll break,

    Those strong wanting doesn't have a brake,

    A heart that's being twisted,

    A mind that had been shattered,

    The belief that you have tilted,

    Making sure it'll give relief,

    To the torture you have driven.


    Trauma is a word,

    But experiencing it is a trouble,

    As it pulls you under,

    To a place where you'll make a blunder,

    Insanity is real,

    Sanity is surreal,

    What you know is new,

    What you don't know is old,

    The brave and the bold,

    Don't tell me how their story unfolds,

    Like a beautiful tale,

    The stories they implemented into our souls,

    From when we are a child,

    Those bedtime stories were told,

    Nothing is here,

    Nothing you can ever feel,

    The dream came true,

    Not even a smile,

    Not even a laugh,

    Not a tear can be shed,

    No jealousy could be fed,

    No anger by others that was led,

    Only silence,

    Quiet and nice,

    Just like how you wanted,

    Is this really what you hunted?

    Your past will forever be haunted.


    Confusion,

    Madness,

    You can never enjoy what you enjoyed,

    You can never cry when filled with sadness,

    On the brink of insanity,

    Everything is filled with calamity,

    Hope is lost,

    Thoughts are gone,

    Losing the ability to think,

    Losing the ability to link,

    A human,

    Without a mind,

    A controlled daily routine,

    Without the heart,

    The world is dark,

    Your broken heart has already left its mark,

    It will always be there,

    You are hurt,

    With uncountable times of when you fell,

    You are a human with an empty shell.

    ©starry_nightsky

  • sharrison 2w

    your power is
    that
    even when it
    rains,
    you continue
    to
    grow.


    ©s.harrison

  • theatrically_mentally_ill 2w

    Flashbacks

    I still get flashbacks to that night.
    Where you screamed in my face.
    The night you made me feel worthless.
    That was the night I lost all hope.
    I had spent centuries
    Building myself,
    And trying to retain the courage it took
    To stand up for myself.
    To know what was healthy for myself.
    And once I did,
    It was too late.
    The flashbacks come from no where.
    I still hear your screaming voice
    And feel the tears rush from my glass eyes.
    But even after all of this,
    Always remember,
    I will always love you.
    ©theatrically_mentally_ill

  • _riggy_ 2w

    When your laying in bed
    having the same conversation
    8 times, 8 different outcomes
    within your mind.
    Getting upset as if what you
    are thinking had any truth.
    Yet you can't stop thinking,
    it's only getting worse.
    Its like the darkness is
    bringing it out in you.


    ©_riggy_

  • wifey_suicide 2w

    I have not yet lived a single day

    Every step I take
    To every breath I count
    Listening to what sound the water has to make
    Catastrophic, posion ivy
    Yet I'm not awake
    Nor have I lived a single day
    Yes I've got out of bed
    Looking at the oceans and lakes
    No I haven't been born
    I look up at the moon
    Shinning so bright
    No I'm not the sun
    Even though the air fills up my lungs
    The tree branches give out hugs
    Castastrophic, posion ivy
    The shells at the sea shore
    Are post-traumatic
    Yet they grow into the tiniest of sea creatures
    I am not alarm
    For what is about to come
    I laugh my smoke out my lungs
    As I dance into the rain
    I have not yet lived
    A single day
    But will today be the day
    I can't ignore
    What the grass has in store
    Especially when opportunity closes their door
    And suicide has the key
    The secrets we all live
    Even Nemo could've found his way
    I'm not huge into magic
    But I believe in fairytails
    But not the ones where price Charming finds his princess
    I believe we're all Kings
    But what do I have to prove
    I hve not yet lived a single day
    Only happiness knows the way
    And on that day
    That'll be the day
    ©wifey_suicide

  • littlebird31 2w

    Odd

    Odd was the first term used to define me in my grandma's living room that one day when I wouldn't stop crying about my blankie.
    ODD was my first mental diagnosis. Oppositional Defiant Disorder or as my mom called them, kids who needed their ass beat with a wooden spoon.
    Turns out they needed to go one alphabetical letter more in the diagnostic manual to PTSD.
    That's right, the child you wanted to beat with a wooden spoon was traumatized.
    But you knew that. You knew how I came to you and my background history.
    Tell me, did you really think that would never affect me?
    Is it because I suffer quietly? Or do you really think I feel no pain?
    I'm just trying to make sense of this but there's something wrong with my brain.
    But listen, my odd ass will be ok, I'm a strategist, that's the role I play.
    I'll figure out how to fix this, but to tell you the truth, odd is in my blood and it's how I plan to stay.
    ©littlebird31

  • littlebird31 2w

    But How Did We Get Here?

    "I love you" you tell me.
    We're standing on my front porch and you want so badly to kiss me good night but I'm not yours to kiss.
    We had our chance, once upon a time, but we fucked that up didn't we?
    See and life moves on, we are pulled in different places, with different people.
    And how are we supposed to be pulled anywhere near each other when I avoid the military like they hand out death warrants.
    It's not that I don't trust a Marine, I do, he's worthy of my trust. I just don't trust the government that made him into the cold calculated machine you now are.
    Look how right I was, look what they've done to you, look what they have covered up. The parts of you that came back broken, forever changed.
    Your heart came back beating though and for that I'm so god-damned grateful.
    And I'm sorry that teenagers don't really know what love is, I'm sorry I didn't know what I was doing.
    I'm sorry I don't know how to end this, because no matter what I say, we're standing on my front porch and I want you to kiss me goodnight, but I'm not yours to kiss.
    ©littlebird31

  • theatrically_mentally_ill 3w

    Trigger Warning

    Slit her wrists
    Hopes to die
    She puts the blade
    To her thigh.
    There she goes
    Yet again,
    Help to stop her
    Before she begins.
    But just until then,
    Label her
    As a trigger warning.
    Or as she may prefer,
    Just call her beautifully broken.
    ©theatrically_mentally_ill

  • littlebird31 3w

    I Want...

    I want to be soulless. I want to rip my soul out of my body, put it in a blender and feed it to my flowers. Maybe it will do them more good than it has done me.

    I want to be heartless. I want to carve it out of my chest and hand it to the first person I see. I want to say fuck you and laugh in their face, "good luck with that wretched thing" I'll say as I spit on my heart and skip away.

    I want to set love on fire and watch it burn. Watch my most beloved lie go up in smoke. Cupid is fucking irresponsible, the universe is sick and love is just the unwanted child of one night between hatred and pain.

    I want to bury childhood. Everyone has one, it's where you get your later in life problems. The ones that put you right here writing this god-damned stupid poem that might be mistaken for hate mail.

    I want to send relationships for a long walk off a short pier. See it doesn't matter if it's the person who gave birth to you, the person who promised to spend the rest of their life with you, or your fucking doctor, you aren't living exactly the life they want you to.

    I want to lock emotions in cages and watch them starve to be felt. I want the shoe on the other foot, I want to not be the one being smothered by emotions I did not ask for.

    I want to kick in your door, send my bat through your TV, stick my finger to my chest and scream "YOU DID THIS TO ME." Like it's the last war cry I'll ever make.
    ©littlebird31

  • _riggy_ 3w

    I just Want to be touched and looked at,
    like the first time we made love.
    Where he didn't see the real me
    The sick me; the imperfect me... at all.


    ©_riggy_

  • _riggy_ 3w

    In these dark days
    I realize how well I know this place
    Then I realize those good days I had
    Might have been a glitch I got to have.

    ©_riggy_

  • littlebird31 8h

    Dissociation

    "You will use math the rest of your life."

    That's what they tell you in school.

    But math is numbers, numbers are counting and counting makes me dissociate.

    Dissociation is the black hole I fall in when I don't feel safe.

    I don't like the word safe. Safe is an unattainable goal.

    What about me isn't safe?

    I remember sitting in Village Inn with my parents that time my father called me every name in the book and told me how worthless I am. 1, 2, 3.

    I remember the counting wasn't working and I was scared he'd finally broke me before I could check out. 4, 5, 6.

    I remember thinking, no one can survive this raw, you have to leave before irrepairable damage is done. 7, 8, 9.

    I remember counting to 20 before I finally slipped into the black abyss that I find peace and rest in, where I can no longer hear my father and the insults he slung at me.

    I can't even hear him screaming at me for "shutting down."

    I remember nothing after because I went nowhere.

    I personally believe that you have to have been somewhere happy to have a happy place, and I only know Happy by its Merriam-Webster Dictionary definition.

    But it's all well and good because I have a black hole.

    It's the black hole that pulls me in while I'm watching my daughter pitch her softball game, because someone behind me said the word grounded.

    I'm told by the rest of the people in the stands that she pitched all three girls out and her home run hit was a thing of beauty.

    I wish I would have seen that but, the black hole was nice too...

    You don't want to avoid the black hole, like when you're driving and you don't have time to visit because you kind of need to pay attention. Then the black hole leaks into reality and suddenly everything is looking cartoony and it all feels unreal, staged. It feels more like an arcade game.

    My best skill at racing arcade games is crashing.

    People tap on your shoulder and wave your hand in front of your face. They want to know what you're staring at. Quick, "nothing" and "I don't know" are not acceptable answers.

    Therapists say you're "triggered", how long can a list of triggers be?

    I wonder if we tallied them up if I would have a matching number of scars on my body from all the bullets they fired at me.

    They say you'll use math all your life. But math is numbers, numbers are counting and counting makes me dissociate.

    And maybe they're right, but it's still a weird kind of achievement that I can be out of here by 2.
    ©littlebird31