door slammed shut
keep out sign hanging on the door knob
panic lives in her chest
winding the jack in the box
anxiety jumps with its
white clown face – screaming
pounding and pounding
stealing another 24 hours
messy bed and unwashed sheets
twisting and turning around daytime
hair falling out
the rotting of woman
her knuckles start to yellow
and her heart hardens
sagging bags under eyes
droop like grandma’s skin
the dark creases of loneliness
stiffening the body
wide awake with the night
holding hands with one another
skipping over cracks in the sidewalk
nails painted black
chipped and scratched
her toes get caught in the traps
left out for squirming mice
the tight pinch of reality is just a slap across the face
the handprint screaming red over her right cheek
It’s a better story if i talk about
Finding flowers in open wounds
If i say it’s alright
If i tell you that i’m better now
That i can see the different
shades of morning again
Like i used to
Or if i talk about the spinning head demons
Running circles but there isnt really anything
Poetic about this pain
I cant make this a pretty ending.
Today was my very last session with my individual therapist and my last skills group for DBT. It took me 2 years to agree do do this program and now it’s almost been a year that I’ve been in it. DBT is honestly a life changing program and so many people can benefit from it (not only those who struggle with tough emotions and impulsivity). I am really happy that dbt will eventually be in schools for young people! I wouldn’t of been able to do it without my amazing therapist and friends I’ve made in the hospital. I’m so grateful for everyone who has helped me along the way. It’s hard to believe how much I’ve overcome and everything that I’ve been faced with.
Before DBT I was being hospitalized for suicide attempts and self harm medical problems. I was struggling so much that I was completely hopeless. I started self harming at school and was being punished for acting out that way. My anxiety got so bad that I had to drop a lot of courses and had to get an EA to help me out. I was constantly triggered by my family members and my by environment.
I can’t say that now i don’t struggle, because I do. The difference is that I’m able to cope better with difficult situations thanks to some amazing people at HSC and on the DBT team there. I feel a sense of freedom in being done but also sadness and fear as to what is next for me. I will take with me my most treasured experiences and the knowledge that I have gained from this last year of pushing through everything!
old china cup eyes
she comes with a history
book inside her palms
her name is crossed out-
a chicken scratch of rage
of ink blots
symptoms and side effects
now ring true
and the doctors say
borderline and she finds the letters
of her names between new refills for medications
all her rough drafts are
mangled within colourless skin
carried over her shoulder
is a numbness betraying darkness
and smiling at sunlight with rotting teeth.
Maybe depression was a gift in disguise. It gave me a platform in some way. It still does. On hard days I still curl up into a bundle of blankets and pillows and cry. But now instead of sulking and becoming more and more intwined in that sadness, I can try to accept it and get through it.
I’m taking a little spin on this Blogging thing. I don’t know who this will reach or who it will touch. One thing that i do know is that its in me to share and to write.
when someone asks me what’s wrong, I never really know what to say. I mean, we’ve been taught to wear a smile and shake off any bad day. Pretend that everything is fine when it is obviously is not. Uttering the words “I’m depressed” shouldn’t be so hard, but for me, it is. And for a lot of other people, too. I still try and dodge the question when it comes around. Nothing is wrong but I’m depressed and I’m struggling. Sometimes there isn’t one thing, sometimes there is no reason at all. Some people don’t accept it as a fact or reason. Because there has to be something that is upsetting you, right? Well, no. They call it a chemical imbalance for a reason.
I, for one understand why people don’t talk about what they are going through. I mean its hard enough opening yourself up to someone and really truly trusting them. Baring your soul to them. It takes courage. And I have just learned that myself (the hard way) Its not easy to let someone know that you’re not okay. Hiding is a lot easier than speaking up and being honest to yourself and to others. I still live with the fear of not being understood or respected because of what i am going through but everyday I make a choice to get out of bed, get dressed and tackle what ever the day throws in my direction.