Today i sit with heavy thoughts, trying so hard to find the support I need but feeling defeated and as though I'm not worth helping. Here's a poem I wrote to try to get things out. Please know I'm safe and I'm reaching out to the crisis service when I need to. I'm laying on my lounge with Casper just trying to rest to keep the thoughts at bay.
Trigger warning!
I’m tired in ways sleep can’t mend,
tired of trying, waiting for the end.
Each day feels heavy, filled with doubt,
like I’m alive, but halfway out.
The world keeps moving, loud and fast,
while I’m still stuck here inside the past.
Hope taps softly, then retreats,
as history inside my head repeats.
My thoughts grow dark when night draws near,
they whisper things I shouldn’t hear.
They say, “Just stop, just disappear.”
They sound so calm, they sound so clear.
They says relief lives just past the pain,
that one moment could loosen the chain.
I loathe the comfort that lies in wait,
how my thoughts map the path to fate.
I sit with dates and endings set,
to see if the next plan’s met.
Will something happen to make me stay,
to make me fight another day?
I know it scares the people who care,
but they aren’t living this nightmare.
They see the mask, they take it whole,
they don’t feel the hole inside my soul.
I have no reason left to fight,
no spark remains to light the night.
The world moves on, I cannot stay,
this is the end, there’s nothing more to say.
