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_shadoe_ (yiyi)
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mental illness

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

a very deep entry thank you..

Pho3nix19xx
Thought Provoker
Canada 1awards
Joined 15th Jan 2016
Forum Posts: 66

“What You Can’t See (Is Killing Me)”

I am not a Soldier, but I have scars that you CAN’T see, and they’re gonna KILL me.
I have never fought a War, but I am in constant battle with my own fucking mind.
I hold this gun stead in my hand because I am too fucking scared to let it go.
Yet, I am dead inside; numb to any and all emotion...
What is emotion...can...can it hurt me?
It’s weird though...I feel no emotion and yet, I am overwhelmed with shame
And my aggression is forever near the boiling point.  
I sleep lonely and cold, but...no...Fuck that...I can’t sleep...that’s when the video plays...
(Or maybe its replays...I don’t fucking know)
That hellish, diabolical night when I watched my mother, father, and baby brother get killed in the fire.
The Police said it was arson, and that they ‘would do whatever it takes to find who started it...’
That was six years ago...but I’m the one who’s lost his freedom.
See, they say ‘what doesn’t kill you; makes you stronger...’
But I beg to differ, what you CAN’T see is fucking KILLING me...
The constant paranoia and insomnia...I told you I’m fucking dead inside.
Tormented by visions of the fire that killed my mother, father, and baby sister
I...I mean I can’t even stand the smell of a lit cigarette without seeing my sister surrounded by flames.
The winter’s the worst though, when you can see the exhaust from every fucking car that passes by...
Or...actually...no I take that back...the worst is hearing sirens...the screams from coming from some stranger as they carried my baby brother out of our burning house...I think it was my brother...
OH GOD, WHY THE FUCK DID I HAVE TO FUCKING GO THERE?!?!?
...
...
...
It was a Friday night, I was supposed to be in bed too, but Bon Jovi was playing...I had to go...
I got back around one...and then I was talking to some Police officer and I started crying...
Why the fuck was I crying?
...
...
...
They say I have some kind of mental health disorder called
PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder  
They say there are pills and councillors that can help...but let’s face it...that shit ain’t fucking free!
I don’t know what any of that shit really means, but what I do know is
I am not a Soldier, but I have scars that you CAN’T see, and they’re gonna KILL me.
I have never fought a War, but I am in constant battle with my own fucking mind.
I hold this gun steady in my hand because I am too fucking scared to let it go.
Yet, I am dead inside; numb to any and all emotion...
I have scars that you CAN’T see, and they have KILLED me!

PTSD IS REAL...PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD...LET’S LOSE THE STIGMA, NOT LIVES!!

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

you been through so much thank you for your most tragic entry..

so sorry for your loss..

thepositivelydark
Fire of Insight
4awards
Joined 28th Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 134

Ah! I write confessional poetry and I think I enjoyed this too much.



Van Gogh is Bipolar

Van Gogh is bipolar and I'm a girl starry-eyed.
The sun got sick of me  -
Or I got sick.
I am locked in my own mind
And through my window I see
That up and down is now anywhere,
Like swirls of paint frozen in the night
Just itching to move.

Thirteen, smart and bullies flock.
Thirteen, innocence,
Die, girl, die.
Teachers also silently cry,
They whisper,
As I begged for help, an explanation,
"You have a wonderful imagination,
But do you want to get locked up,
Talk to a psychiatrist,
Be labeled insane?"
She's the 'guidance' counselor.
That was the beginning of a very dark night.

Fourteen, teacher says it's your fault.
Fourteen, teacher says you're a problem child.
Fourteen, teacher says you're pitiful
And calls your parents.
Your grades are dropping.

Fifteen, I cut myself with a razor for the first time.
Fifteen, felt better and flirted with life.
Fifteen, I fell
Again.

I have battle scars to show.
The stars teased me,
Too far to let me see clearly.

Fifteen, girl, you have depression.
Mother asked, "Are you not surprised?"
No.
Why should I be?
I lived with that self for three whole years,
And you know I have medals in that old shoe box under my bed,
I should know there's something wrong with me
When the A+ stopped showing
And I stopped showing up in classes
And newspaper article ideas turned to dust...
I let that dream just turn to dust.
The moon finally showed up -
I saw what was broken.

Sixteen, believed to be stronger.
Sixteen, met the Original Bipolar Girl.
Fuck her.
"Oh you take two kinds of meds? I take five."
"Oh, your first psych's just nearby? I take a long trip to meet mine. He's my third."
"Oh you like talking about this? Your eyes just dilated."
"I hate you for no reason."
"My mental illness is superior, I have great ups but still can't crush you in English, but hey, I stole all you could have achieved. 'Cause I'm manic and you're drowning."
"Bipolar I is awesome and I'm about to buy a vibrator and my boyfriend is not a virgin. I knew Christian Grey before 50 Shades went mainstream. You're blushing."
"I'll pretend to be nice. You're admittedly smarter so fuck you."
Fuck you, too.
Bitch, I read Master of the Universe. Before 50 Shades.
I don't like it much.
I prefer Kinkily Ever After.

God, I pray for you, honey, but, still, fuck you.
I see stars every evening with my own tired fingers
I breathe out clouds in the night sky
And my moans are the hymn of the nocturnal birds
In my night.
Not yours.

Sixteen, teacher said I should stop my education.
I'm a thankless burden to my parents.
Then I think she pitied me.

But college, oh hope!
Grades were soaring, every answer flowing
Out of a mouth that never stopped talking...
Fingers writing, bleeding the Hemingway way
Lithium was working
Until they told me to stop.
Hope, you cruel thing!
Failed before I finished a semester
Just before September
And Jimmy said I didn't have a God.
5th September -
Seventeen
Happy birthday, dear,
You are Bipolar
II to be exact
Damn, still inferior to Original Bipolar Girl.
But stars, you let me see brighter
As I looked over the chaos of a village broken -
Which should I fix first?

University, wonderful!
Another start.
Fly manic, impress
Dress well, speak well, and win.
Have a cute boyfriend.
Then break up with him after two weeks.
Then fail before finishing the semester
Again
Before September
Eighteen...
Happy birthday, you're alone
Legal, you can now drink
Sneak off the strawberry wine at midnight.
The night sky is your witness.

Five years
Three attempts at dying
Lithium and wine
Razor blades and bleeding
Until an insistent voice breaks through -
Your heart screaming:
"I am, I am, I am."
Funny you repeat this to keep living -
Sylvia Plath put her head in the oven.

In poetry we confess,
In poetry we profess
Our love of darkness
And the light,
The gift and the curse,
And the horniness that comes with it.
Crazy when paired with teenage hormones, believe me.
And you're a virgin.

Eighteen...still fighting.
Eighteen...dying
To live out this life
Outlive the timeline of a creative's demise.
And before I die,
I want to be able to say
That I was a starlight
That spiraled through life...

But I know they still wait for it...
The maniacal laughs
The desperate sobs
The I-am-Someone-Great
To I'll-Kill-Myself-I'm-Worthless
I am a teen TV drama happening in front of you -
Of course, I'm the star.

Van Gogh is bipolar and I'm a girl starry-eyed.
Starlight will lead me to life -
Vibrant colors to last through time.

Or the stars will shine straight to my eyes
Until sight leaves me
And I'm engulfed by darkness,
The echo
Of a gunshot
In the distance.

Who knows...?

Van Gogh is bipolar.
Guess what.
So am I.

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

thank you for very real, heartfelt entry..

Nephele
Twisted Dreamer
United States 3awards
Joined 21st Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 14

...

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

thank you so much for a great entry..

mysteriouslady
Tyrant of Words
United States 15awards
Joined 11th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 2400

PTSD
ADHD
CHEMICAL DEPENDENCY
ANXIETY
all 4 walked into a bar
The bartender says:
Hey PTSD, you cant hide from anyone. ADHD will call you out
about 12 times ten, then wash her hands 7 times but not
before taking CHEMICAL DEPENDENCY to a new level
by swallow a handful of pills to silence the bitch
loudly screaming ANXIETY?
Now drink this.
Do you like clowns?
Flowers are pretty.
Never ever seek up behind me.  
I need a new script.


crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

thank you I feel your entry deep..

AbraLynn27
Strange Creature
Joined 6th May 2016
Forum Posts: 1

My hypothesis
of this contradiction is
that you require confidence
see, in your subconscious
evil is exuding dominance.
This is very ominous.
This problem seems to be bottomless.
Let's look in a bottle,
see what we find.
Prozac, Zoloft,
a painkiller of any kind.
It'll dull your senses
but the sense is
that senses are too sharp
for the world .

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

thank you for a great entry..

highwaytohell
Greg
Thought Provoker
South Africa
Joined 24th Sep 2015
Forum Posts: 449

How I feel about life right now:/

The descent into madness

Doing pointless things
exhibit A-writing
Why?
not sure
just cause
perhaps the repetitive taps
add to a routine relaxation
an irony within itself
as repetitiveness becomes relentless

Exhibit B-creating counter arguments
a desperate attempt playing devils advocate
arguing over stupid little thing
making them seem like the end of humanity
all for what...
worse then that
is arguing for the other side
nullifying my own argument

Exhibit C-fiddling
no matter what something must always be done
a pointless something
such as exhibits A and B
but with objects
from
clicking,
tapping,
rocking,
speaking,
and the occasional meaningful fiddling
aka work

Exhibit D-unofficial OCD
tiny details are a bother
at malls whilst walking
trying to avoid every crack from every tile
to religiously collecting series of films
but
everything else...disregarded
summed up by "meh"

I feel like a walking irony
a self poem I wrote
yet this is the only stanza
I ever referenced myself

What the fuck is going here!
ask for help...send me a straight jacket
my ironically hilariously saddening life
the descent into madness!!!!

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 121awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

thank you Greg for digging deep with your entry..

Esteban34
Strange Creature
Joined 6th May 2016
Forum Posts: 3

Sweet senses

jenny_is_hungry
Fire of Insight
United States 2awards
Joined 22nd Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 30

Schizophrenia Unknown

It isn't unreasonable
Not even a little
Standing alone in the dark

Being in this room
Feeling unsettled
knowing outside he lurks

But is he really?
Is there really a voice?
When they all say it's in your head

Yes, they're right
So you make the choice
To follow logic instead

Turn on the light
Now you are safe
From anything meaning harm

Take a deep breath
The voices at bay
No reason to cause alarm

But even now
Your mind starts to wander
And suddenly the lights disappear

Alone in the dark
Shadows threateningly linger
And suddenly, closer, they appear,

Mom is just outside
If only you could just walk
and reach that dreaded door knob

Get past that dark shape
Try not to sob or break
As your heart begins to speed and throb

When did it glow eyes?
Following your every move
You desperately try to turn on a light

But to your horrified dismay
It wont work and you've
Done nothing but shut your eyes tight

You wait for it silently
Hearing your own heart wildly
Beating against an aching chest

Your nightmares are here
The demons, they're near
fingers outstretched, right over your breast

You let out desperate screams
But nobody seems
To hear or care that you are there

You finally feel it searing
They're relentless claws tearing
At the fading cealing, you stare

Draining out of you, your life
As you lose all your sight
And let the cold drench you

But in a minute you wake
Stunned faces Twisted in distaste
For they know not what illness inside you brews.


(btw, the story isnt literal. It just shows how i feel in terms of fear in a way people can maybe understand... Its not just voices and visual manifestations, its terror)

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