There is nothing worse in the world than not being able to express yourself. Your feelings, your emotions, your deep-rooted opinions swirling around in your head and you can’t let them out. Sometimes its too inappropriate, sometimes fear quashes your words. And sometimes depression strangles your voice to the point where you don’t even know what you’re feeling. All you know is that what set you off shouldn’t have and now it’s too late.
I’ve suffered from depression for 3 years now, only been aware of it for the last year. Accepting I had a mental illness wasn’t too difficult. Telling people, however, seems like the hardest part. When I eventually started speaking about it to my boyfriend or my friends it was a relief. However, almost like the calm before the storm, it lead me to feel even more insecure. I often feel like an emotional burden. No matter how many good days I have, as soon as I feel it washing over me I do two things; I seek attention- just one moment of reassurance can help prevent hours of tears- and I push everyone away. The problem with wanting unconditional love and care from someone, while having the script of what they need to say in your head, is they can’t read your mind. And the longer it takes for them to comfort you, the longer it seems you are keeping them from living their life.
Writing is such a powerful tool. If you cannot speak up, write it down. I have a passion for poetry and anything that I consider half decent has been written at the lowest points in my life. I did not aim to comfort in this piece- I merely wanted to share my feelings and hopefully connect with some of you.