I don’t want to live in this world anymore

I don’t want to live in this world anymore,

If I’m a woman I’m obviously a whore.

If I’m a daughter I belong to a man,

And if I’m getting older only marriage is my plan

I’ve tried and failed to be worthy of air,

Suffocating whilst people don’t care.

I don’t know how to tell you, that I’m losing my will.

The voice inside me tells me that I’m ill.

I don’t know how to say I don’t want to live,

Or that I have nothing left to give.

I am truly exhausted I’m sorry to say,

Trying to live until today.

I’m ending my life, and I’m sorry I must.

Though I hope the world I leave will turn fair and just.

I find no point in continuing to breathe,

And if there’s a God he’ll know there’s no need.

For in my mind I know I’m already dead,

My wishes unfulfilled, these fires left unfed.

Look, I’ll be honest with you I have tried,

But in the end these tears I’ve cried,

Would make you an ocean, or a raging sea.

The same I must take refuge in if I’m to be free.

There’s no point to me, don’t you see?

The sea is calling, it calls to me.

 

(A poem by me.)

As someone considering suicide, here is what people should know

I don’t want to feel this way.

I feel pity for myself. I feel sorry.

All I do is eat, cry, sleep and repeat. Sometimes I’ll occupy myself. I love running and I can’t even run properly because I’m always crying. It kinda makes it hard to breathe.

I’m so tired of this life. It sounds like such a cliche, but it’s true.

You know what I think about as I lie here and cry myself to an early grave?

That maybe, just maybe someone will come to save me. But it never happens.

I keep thinking about the previous men in my life. The ones who were supposed to love me. And I keep wondering whether they feel any remorse for hurting me.

The worst thing is I don’t want to feel this way. I want to be normal and get on with my life. But, since I’ve been suffering with severe depression and anxiety since I was a child, with no help whatsoever, I feel so tired now it’s like I can’t even contemplate a normal life.

The simple truth is, I feel so lost. And so lonely. And I don’t know whether I want to live or die. I guess I’m at the cusp of deciding.

I truly feel like I don’t belong in this world. Or maybe I do. Recently I came to realise there is one other option for me, as a way out of this desperate torment.

I cannot speak of it, but I am seriously considering it.

As someone who is right now seriously considering suicide; here is what the world should know.

Nothing will stop me from doing so. Nothing anyone says, or does, will stop me once I’ve made up my mind. I guess, I’m not so sure yet. But my life is empty. And no one is to blame for that. Taking ones own life is the most unselfish thing to do. Take it from someone who is hesitating to knock on death’s door.

 

As the royal wedding takes place all I can do is cry

As the royal wedding takes place today, I’m left feeling slightly saddened by the fact that I am alone.

It’s a bit like that feeling you get on Valentine’s Day; when everyone who is in a relationship go out for meals together and I’m left reeling by the fact that my ex was already married when he met me.

I’m not bitter. Far from it. But it really doesn’t help when you’re feeling like a used rag, and other people’s privilege is plastered all over social media and the TV.

I guess it’s the men I have dated. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I relied on them for affection and protection as I suffer from anxiety. But in return for my own love they gave me sadness. None of them ever loved me. I was a commodity to them. They leave me black and blue whilst they enjoy their lives. Well, they’re the ones who left me. In the end, everyone always does. It’s probably due to my insecurities. But each time someone walks away it leaves me wondering; what is wrong with me?

One of them told me one day, as I continued to fall madly in love with him, that I cost him more than a prostitute. There was no safety harness then as I continued to plummet to a certain kind of death.

Why do I care so much? Marriage really isn’t at the top of my list. As I unpack my feelings I realise it’s because I feel inadequate. I feel worthless. And it’s these feelings that anxiety constantly reminds me to feel. And not just with the people who I form relationships in my life. It’s also my professional life too.

Anxiety is that old, bitter man who stands above me whispering evil nothings to me, as a stark reminder that I am insignificant in the grand scheme of things. A small pawn in a world that couldn’t care less if I wasn’t here.

And as I continue to battle my feelings amongst the torn and broken relationships I’ve had with the people who have used me and left me, meanwhile a prince is about to make the beautiful woman he loves a duchess and his wife.

And all I can do is, well, cry.

abstract break broken broken glass
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Anxiety is my superpower

Anxiety makes me sad. It makes me angry, confused. It makes me feel pathetic and worthless.

I fight with those closest around me, even with the tiniest upset. The smallest argument. Insignificant things.

But my feelings of dismay and disarray return; when I stop to rest. If I don’t constantly push myself, I get tired. I start to feel down.

So anxiety is what keeps me going really. It’s my superpower. I can avoid people and situations expertly with it. I can sense other people’s emotions and attitudes towards me, so finely tuned; that I can even hear their thoughts, don’t ya know?

Anxiety is my superpower. I can delay my life, all of my successes and achievements with it. I can use the superhuman strength and ability it gives me to feel physically ill. My limbs ache, my head spins. Lights are far too bright. I’m unsteady on my feet, but all the better to fly, right?

I can’t live a normal life, to be brutally honest. But which superhero can?

pexels-photo-346796.jpeg

I grieve for my life – Living with anxiety

Two days ago, I cried so much it was like my face was going to explode.

I get burst blood vessels in my cheeks when I cry hard, and I can’t help it.

I get so sad sometimes that I can’t see the wood for the trees.

I spoke to a couple of friends and they both told me to get help. I told one of them how I want to… well, die.

The problem with help is; in my opinion, it’s not forthcoming. There is no help because no seperate being can help.

For instance, you were born into this world alone and you will die alone. Some say we were born with two angels, one good and one bad. One who sits on the right shoulder, and one on the left. But who is it who has to go through the stages of grief every single day? It is I. Not the angels.

I grieve for my life, for my past, my present and my future.

Yes, I suffer greatly in that my anxiety is so debilitating, that there are certain things I cannot do; that seem doable to those without anxiety.

Today, I felt a wave of the clouds of fear and doubt as I watched the television to take my mind off of things. How can such a simple act evoke such strong feeling? Because, my anxiety is me, and I am my anxiety.

I grieve till the tiny blood vessels in my face burst. Till my eyes hurt.

Yes, I grieve for my life. Because it was something I lost the moment my anxiety became a part of me.

pexels-photo-302804.jpeg