You think that I’m happy,
Just because I smile.
You don’t know what’s inside,
Because that’s my style.
You can’t see the trauma,
You can’t see the scars,
You can’t see me curled upon the floor,
You can’t see me hiding from the chapped door,
You can’t see,
All you can see is my smile.
The floor seemed to sparkle beneath Alices’ heels, “Everything is finally going my way,” she told herself as she picked up a bag of oranges, “Soon I’ll have someone to do this for me.”
As she passed the other customers she began to feel a smug superiority, “They all act like zombies in this dimly lit environment.” she thought as she walked by a very tired-looking man.
I feel like it is important to share my story along the way, this time; instead of focusing on what contributed to my mental health, I’d like to focus on the topic of Friendship. These relationships really do affect our mental health in multiple ways, and I feel that it is important to highlight this issue for people who may not understand just how important it can be.
I thought I was lucky when I was younger as I had a huge group of friends, but I was never allowed out the house very much, and I had to live with the prospect of missing out on everything. When I got to a certain age where I could sneak out, lie about my whereabouts, or generally not care about pleasing my mother it all started to derail.
I think its also important to explain that before all this happened a friend of mine, whom I knew since I was twelve slept with my first serious boyfriend, I had strong feelings for him but looking back on it he was a total dufus, and I walked in on them kissing each other the morning after. After that, I started to question everything about my life, who could I trust?
I feel a slight flutter in my tummy,
I worry that I might become a mummy.
I would love to have a child,
but my mind has become too wild.
Over-obsessing about every ache,
and questioning my abilities makes me want to break.
There is just a muddle of thoughts in my brain,
it tends to drown me out until I go insane.
As I walk to the shop by the lane,
the obsessive thoughts they drive me insane.
As I stop and smile at your wayne,
my brain is driving me insane.
As I smile and hide the pain,
the different voices are driving me insane.
My thoughts are my bane,
and they drive me insane.
I’m not good enough for you,
You cannot see me.
I’m not good enough for you,
The letter is my proof.
I’m not good enough for you,
My condition is lacking.
I’m not good enough for you,
I am a statistic.
I’m not good enough for you,
You didn’t listen.
I’m not good enough for you,
The response was so clear.
I’m not good enough for you,
Now you have caused me great fear.
The last few days I’ve been caught up in a depressive cycle, every time I’ve written my mind has gone blank, and the small pocket of inspiration vanishes in a cloud of grey.
Depression is so hard for me to handle, I just sit down and vegetate. Anxiety usual takes the wheel, it feels like my brain has gone from 100mph to zero, as the grey takes over my mind.
I’ve been writing for almost a week so I thought I’d introduce myself, and tell you my story. I’m keeping my anonymity though as it makes it so much easier to talk about my own mental health.
I was born to two disabled parents who I’ve spent most of my life taking care of, my mother always resented me as I was far from perfect in her eyes, she would lose it and hit me.
Most of my childhood felt like I was living with a bomb that could go off at any time, it created my anxiety, and it flourished. I cannot remember a time that I wasn’t anxious or depressed.
Then in my late teens, I was raped by someone who was meant to be my friend, and I never told a soul. A year later I confided in my boyfriend of the time, who actually told everyone, and I became the girl who cried rape.
I miss you my little peanut,
every single day,
I think about you as much as I can,
and my love never fades away.
I wonder what you’d be like,
and I cry just like when you left me.
I think what our first Mothers day would be,
and the traditions that are now empty.
Today I cannot look outside, the flashbacks seem to come all the time, the past abuse that haunts my core, from my mother, my friend, and my lover.
They were never good to me, rape, sexual abuse, physical abuse, and threatening behaviours.
Now all I can do is see what’s in the past, no future ever guides me, as it will not let me go.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend, they tend to leave me when they’ve had there fun, they never understand my mental health, and then I’m left back on the shelf.
The Lady Prince 