Everyone thinks I'm crazy

There are voices inside my head 
And everyone thinks I'm crazy They all see me stuck in my bed  And just assume that I am lazy  They think I'm being too dramatic Like there's some screws loose in my attic My brain is a little broken My mind is sick So many words remain unspoken And the happy days don't stick So everyone thinks I'm crazy 
Oh wait  But maybe  Maybe they don't think that  Maybe that's just the voices  The voices in my head  Telling me that instead

A poem based on Job 24

Melancholy does not define me
He is using it to refine me This life offers me no security  It bring much struggle and pain Because that's leading to maturity It is all worth it, not all in vain  He will not forget me like he does the wicked Because darkness is where they dwell And quickly the grave snatches them away Into darkness I may have fell  But in darkness I will not stay The wicked vanish in an instant  Like the foam on the surface of the waves  Their torment is constant Even beyond the moment of the grave  But as depression lasts for years and years I have a confidence that the wicked do not His love is greater than all my fears He is faithful, whatever my lot The pain is good Though often misunderstood  The pain draws me deeper Closer to my savior He will not turn his back on my plea But draws me closer to eternity

Numbness is a prison guard

Waves of anxiety

Boom, boom, boom. Throb, throb, throb. The heart beats and beats and beats. The pulsing sensation spreads, legs shake, toes wiggle, feet stomp. Please sit still. It is foreign. Please focus. It is impossible. Stop. Stop. Stop. It stops. But then it goes again. The whole body is in a hurry, but to go nowhere. There is a sense of urgency and rush, hurry and bustle in the mind. Be still. Be still. Be still. A moment of calm, a moment of peace. And there it goes again. Boom, throb, beat. Shake, wiggle, stomp. Waves of anxiety.

The pit

Sometimes I'm far from it, there is no danger falling in. Sometimes I'm standing on the edge but with enough room that I won't slip. Sometimes I'm grasping the side of the ground, with my feet dangling in, trying to pull myself up. And every once in a while, it's as if someone shoved me in, with no warning. What is it? It's the pit. The pit is dark, deep, lonely. The walls are slippery and steep, impossible to crawl. The bottom offers nothing good yet has this amazing ability to increase what you bring to it. If you bring sadness, it will in return give you despair. If you bring with you doubts, it will allow you to find hopelessness. It is a place to sit and nothing else, there is not enough room. So how do you get out once you're in? Well, it can become a home for some, they never really find their way out and choose to live a life, comfortably isolated and despairing. Others panic as they scream and cry and grab at the side walls, only to slide back down…

One of those hard days

My thoughts began to drift
The focus would not stay
Frantically my brain tried to sift
But still found nothing to say

Tears swelled up in my eyes
As they continued looking at the beach
It was one of those cries
inexplainable by speech

Where did it start
I couldn't tell you, not today
I was falling apart
And thats the most I could say

Sitting in silence
Anxiety and despair
Sitting in silence
oh what a pair.

The voices no one else hears (part 1)

The alarm to take medication went off as she quickly realized she had forgotten. "Do I stay quiet and skip it today or announce it in front of my whole family to turn the car around?" asked FEAR. She sat there and finally spoke up, telling her dad they had to go back. Then the dreaded question was asked, "Whats the medication for?" from someone behind her. "How much should I explain, do they really need to know?" asked SHAME. Her heart sank as she mumbled the word "depression" out loud. "Now they're all thinking that I'm dramatic or have issues or am making it all up" said PRIDE. As they looped back around to the hotel, she hopped out, ran past the bell men, into the elevator, across the hotel, up to the room, grabbed the pill, swallowed it, and sprinted back to same way, into the car, and sat in her seat. " They were probably all talking about me when I was gone" said INSECURITY.