“Hi! How are you?”

Those words… those words mean I have to bend the truth. I have to find a way to tell you what you what to hear. That I’m ok. That I’m doing good. Because you don’t really want to hear that I’m not. Again. So I show you that I’m good and I spend the day with a stupid smile and a happy positive vibe for you to see. And then later? I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted from the pretence. The 1 woman show that I’ve put on for everyone to see. From where I’ve worked so hard to have everyone thinking that I’m ok and that I’ve not failed again. And then despite feeling exhausted? I’m awake at night clawing at my mind like I claw at my skin. And the anxiety builds and the self doubt builds and the darkness wins a little more and I smile for everyone to see and I’m ok. And I fail. All I do is fail.

It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m supposed to have been able to kick it into touch by now. I’m supposed to have snapped out of it and stopped moping and whatever other words I’ve heard people say… the past is in the past, I’m not a child anymore… grow up and get on with it. I’ve heard it all. But some scars run deep. They fracture you and physically break something deep inside. Some broken children heal and others don’t. The ones that don’t turn into broken adults. And it’s not their fault they’re broken. It’s not my fault I’m broken. But to me? To me it’s my fault. I don’t want to be a failure. I don’t want to disappoint. So I’m ok. But I’m not… I’m tired of the games that my mind plays. I want out of it. I want to be rid of the thoughts, the memories, the flashbacks, but most of all? I want to be rid of the nightmares. The things I see when I sleep. Or the terror I feel on the odd occasion I go to the shop and hear someone with that tone of voice. I want to stop being afraid of everything and everyone. Sounds stupid? Yep I know. But it’s the truth. Looking back, I never used to be like this. This bad I mean. It started getting worse about 7 years ago. I don’t know what the catalyst was. But now I question every thing I do, think, and say. I judge myself so harshly that I don’t leave any of myself left for anyone else to judge. It’s said that we are our own worst critic. I rip myself apart before anyone else gets chance to realise just what a failure I am. Because if others found out that I was less? Then they would stay away. People hurt you. No one gets in therefore they can’t hurt me. Only I can hurt me.

Honestly? I’m tired of the whirlwind that is me. That is my mind. My thoughts. My feelings. My emotions… I’m tired of me. I’m tired of fake smiling. I want so desperately to give up and yet, there’s this tiny stupidly annoying little thing inside of me… this tiny little spark… its called hope. And as much as I loathe myself? Hope keeps shining. Hope refuses to give up. Hope keeps me going…

…sigh…

Depression/darkness/anxiety/whatever you wish to call it… they are strong and powerful things. But hope? That tiny little sparkling glimmer of hope? It’s the most powerful thing there is.

So… I’m going through bad days(again), My poems on here have stopped(again). But? I’ll be posting soon because? Hope doesn’t let me quit life.