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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2206297
Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #2206297
I am fighting in a battle that requires love and understanding within myself.
You never really see these moments in your life coming until you are face to face with it, that feeling of utter drowning. You tell yourself it is a phase and that you have prevailed through much worse before, you must suck it up and keep going. Eating too much in the day to going days without even water in your system while realizing you are already on your way down that slippery slope. Sleeping all day to barely remembering the last slumber of 2 hours or more, you have started to become hollow.
No one ever really thinks this moment will come, we are strong and taught to fight back when these feelings or issues occur. Have we been taught how to fight back against ourselves?

Think about it with me, being told to stand up for yourself and always believing in yourself as you grow. What happens when what or who you are standing up against is none other than the person in that dreadful mirror? What do you do when you are letting yourself become heavy enough to drown in your own heartache and self pity? Understand me when I say this, no one asks to be hurt and I truly believe that. I firmly believe we are all souls so desperately wanting love and understanding that we begin to pour ourselves into moments, people, and objects all the same. We do this because we are looking for where we belong in this world, we are looking for purpose in a sea of unknown endeavors. We do this so willingly that, in quick instances, we never truly start to love or understand ourselves. You never really know how to love or understand the person in the mirror.

Loving and understanding ones self is a task we feel works itself out until we are faced with pain and suffering. At first you tell yourself to keep your head up and persevere, never give up. Months can pass by with laundry building up and showering can become obsolete in most cases, "You will get to it" is all you whisper in your own mind. Time flies as your bed becomes your domain in such a sense that leaving it seems impossible, even with you not sleeping for days on end. When you do find something to focus on, you bleed your soul dry with long hours and open ended promises of self care and preservation. Any type of friendship you possess may be held together by your sharp humor and your bright smile you throw out there to keep others off of your scent. At times you start to have many conversations in your head, while it races continuously, until you just can't fathom anymore contact with even yourself. Maybe you never started here or thought this wasn't going to happen to you, but indeed, you have arrived to this heavy feeling and topic. You, my fellow beautiful soul, have arrived to the pit of depression and anxiety.

There is no way you have become a statistic, not a single chance that you are sick. Many times, I found myself making fun of my own tragedies and shortcomings to get a laugh or even a smile. I desperately wanted to be loved and understood as a person so I chose humor over true grieving. This is not the only outlet used, others may use manipulation or outright rage to try and reach others. Some may never speak up and will avoid contact with almost anyone. But, again, that cannot possibly mean you are sick and it also doesn't prove you are drowning. You can come out of the deep end, that is what you tell yourself as you pick at your fingernails and lips looking for skin to ruin. You pick and pick and pick until you move to biting the inside of your mouth, just digging into your own thoughts. When the pain finally catches up to you and your useless escape plans, the water finally topples over your head. Drowning has begun as you realize everything has just become too heavy to bare and you have told yourself you are not worth saving.


I see you and I am with you, just another soul trying to survive. I feel too heavy, my mental health is just something I cover with jokes and late night thoughts on why I barely ate that day. My days start to blur together with lies I spew about how working out at the gym and an apple are going to fix the damage, what a remedy that is. How can I even begin to heal if I think my illness is a phase? A moment that I tell myself will pass and everything will feel better with my positive outlook. "Just crack a morbid joke and remember to shower this week, don't pick at your lip too much while you are at it" I whisper in my head. Truthfully, I am at the point where I cannot sift in this sea of hurt anymore and wait for myself to "get over it". I have depression, my friends, and I have been battling since puberty to save my life.

You are not too heavy, my dear.

I see you and I am with you, come up for air and take my hand. ❤
© Copyright 2019 Hillary Kathyleen (hartley32 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2206297