The Phone Rings

The room is vacant of motion.

Time stands still. My mouth dries as the breath creeps in, stinging my lungs held so tightly by Asthma. The white walls reflect my mind. The empty spaces reflect the loss. Lost, maybe.

I could be.

I can remember you. I can remember the conversation. I remember the way your eyes locked with mine as I tried to count how many seconds I had been staring. The way the words flowed off your lips effortlessly; a stream of thought and consciousness in search of another’s ears. Looking for anyone to listen. Looking for anyone to care. All I can hear is my breathing. All I can feel is my shaking.

Anxiety has been on hold ever since she called.

And it’s getting hard to ignore her.

Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health or mental illness? Email wemustbebroken@gmail.com

Creative Pieces dear hope

Identity

SSart

Identify me
Attempt to find me
In a sea of sunken dreams
I stay afloat
But only barely on thin arms
I’m a mirror by myself
Reflecting everybody else
But never what I thought or felt
It’s not my time.

It’s the silence that depresses me
And I welcome it subconsciously
I don’t mind.

Even the blind see
Who they want to be
Not contingent on the stares
They are so blissfully unaware
Of what they are
Everyones gaze it petrifies
Because of what it signifies
I feel I’ve lost more of myself
Than I can find

It’s the silence that depresses me
And I welcome it subconsciously
I don’t mind.
And I confront what I repress in me
And I smile at it thankfully
It reminds me of whats real
Reminds me I can feel

And it hurts to know
This is who I am
I’m a mirror myself
Reflecting everybody else
Who am I to deny
my place in their right
I’ll just keep the silence for myself

This is a song from my last band that fell apart way to soon. Hear the song here. 

Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health or mental illness? Email wemustbebroken@gmail.com

Creative Pieces dear hope

How I Feel

Darkness. All I could see was darkness.

I can remember sitting on my bed staring at the ceiling as the sensation of the sheets below me slowly began to fade away. There was light in the far corner that illuminated some shallow alleyway of my life. But as for the rest, darkness. My eyes were hollowed out. Any liquid that would mix into tears had accumulated and gone back behind my eyelids, drowning my thoughts in a salty mix. Each hand lay still beside my body, barely moving with the still breaths that came with the rise and fall of my chest.

My body shook as if it were cold, but no goosebumps could be found on my bare skin. A galaxy had collapsed within itself just below my chest cavity. A black hole resided inside of me. Sucking the life from every extremity. My fingers and toes went numb. And I was soon flooded with apathy. A wave crashed over me and I had no strength to fight.

I drowned.

Quietly. 

Quietly and all alone.

And somewhere in that corner, illuminated by light. I screamed.

But the waves drowned out my voice. Defeated, beat down, and tired.

No one heard me.

So I watched my demons swing and dance before my eyes.

Waiting for the curtains to fall so I could drift asleep.


 

Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health or mental illness? Email wemustbebroken@gmail.com

Creative Pieces dear hope

TAAD: Elevator

The doors closed as I fell in.

I stood backwards;

With the future behind me,

And the past staring straight at my face

Like mirrors reflecting mirrors in a run down elevator

In the old motel just outside of town.

I was trapped.

In a cycle of endless space

Where time had frozen

And my body lay cold

Forever expanding.

Forever retracting.

I reached for my own hand

expecting warmth

I reached for anyone

But only found myself.

That’s when the power went out.

And I couldn’t see my reflection through the mirror clearly.

The elevator couldn’t descend any lower.

I broke the mirrors.

I faced forward.

I pulled open the doors

And I climbed out.

With the past behind me,

and the future staring straight at my face.

The doors closed as I pressed forward.

And now I won’t look back.

Creative Pieces dear hope

The First (Last) Step: Asking For Help

Help. For a lot of people this is something easy to say. If you’re struggling with something you should ask for assistance. Most people don’t mind an honest ask for help when you’re having trouble with something. But when it comes to mental illness this is one of the hardest words to say. It’s often the last thing that is said. Help from others becomes the last resort.

But why?

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For me personally, asking for help was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Was it pride?

My ego?

Fear of judgment?

Losing friends?

Being rejected?

Honestly, it was a little of all those things. Many people don’t want to admit they need help, I can attest to that. I’d much rather try and figure something out myself than have a crutch or someone else holding my hand along the way. But there comes a point when even you can’t help yourself in your life. Eventually you start drowning too fast and can’t tread the water anymore. So when the water started filling into my lungs, did I ask for help then?

No.

Because that’s when all the other fears from asking for help came in.

Article dear hope

Rid The Stigma: Using Mental Illnesses as Adjectives

I often overhear people saying “I was so depressed yesterday after watching that movie” or “my insomnia is so bad I’ve been up until midnight the last three nights”.

These need to stop. 

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I started thinking about this after reading a blog post earlier today. Go check it out, it’s an awesome blog.

Depression is not a short term sadness after viewing something sad. That is just being sad. Everyone gets sad every once in a while. Sadness is something in everyone. Depression, however, is something that lasts a long time, an ongoing fight that is often daily.

Article dear hope