— 10 Comments

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
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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
— 11 Comments

Coping: Entry Two – Depression and Faith, Finding Yourself Through Struggle

How do you cope?

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A few weeks ago I posted an article entitled “Coping” that detailed my own personal experience with mental illness and depression and received a lot of good feedback from it. Not only did people seem to understand what my depression was more, but people who also fought began to come forward and share with me their own stories. It affirmed my idea that these things need to be heard, and have gone ahead to decide to start a series of posts under the name “Coping”. In this series that’ll be published every few weeks, guest writers will share their struggles, coping mechanisms, their lowest point and more, allowing us into the eyes of those with mental illness. Reminding people who fight that they’re never alone, and those who don’t fight with a better understanding than they might of had before.

So here’s the first guest post from my great friend Haley, enjoy.

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There is no cure for depression. It will always be a part of who you are. But it’s how you accept its presence that determines the impact it has on your life.

It took me an extremely long time to accept my depression. As I was growing up, I was always the happy member of the family. I provided the laughs and made sure everybody was always having a good time. As I grew older, members of my family were gradually diagnosed with depression until I was the only one without this disease. And what did that mean to me? I was the only one that could always provide joy. I didn’t know what depression was: I took on the burden of making sure my sister and parents were in good spirits because I thought that they were unable to obtain it on their own. When I reached the point where I was unable to do this, I felt like a failure. I had let my family down.

Coping: This Is Who We Are dear hope
— 6 Comments

Thoughts, An Anonymous Diary – Dear Hope, Never Let us Part

The more you know about this world

the angrier you’ll become.

So don’t believe the words

but stay true to what’s at heart. 

Don’t confuse fate with reason,

Don’t let anything destroy our hope.

Because it’s all we have left.

–

The clouds we walk are ever-changing

until we find how simple it is.

–

This was the ending part of a song entitled “Dear Hope, Never Let Us Part” that this blog is based off of. Feel free to read the full lyrics and hear the song here.

Thoughts An Anonymous Diary: Poems Prose Lyrics and More
— 24 Comments

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
— 11 Comments

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
— 4 Comments

Thoughts, An Anonymous Diary: Poems, Prose, Lyrics and More. Entry 1 – Medicine

Medicine 

I was sick.

It beat me down.

I was conscious that it wasn’t the right decision. I’m convinced I knew that all along. I was so desperate to feel better that I took the medicine as often as I could. It made me happy. I was doing better. I was distracted from myself.

I was doing better.

That medicine is what kept me going. It hid the scars that I had buried under my skin that had recently grown so close to the surface. They were so close that you could feel the outline with the slightest touch…and how badly I wanted that touch to be easier for you. But while you were helping me I slowly began to break again. And I abused you.

The dosage was never consistent. Over and under-indulging nearly drove me insane. I can remember sitting alone wanting to take more, but I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find you. You had enough. You cried. You left. You were my crutch and I abused you until you snapped.

I thought I was happy.

I thought I was better.

But people are not medicine.

And you were not prescribed to me.

I thought I was happy.

I thought I was better.

But I am sick.

And I beat you down.

PF

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
— 1 Comment

I’m Depressed: We Speak Our Own Language

The community here is growing and I couldn’t be more excited. After just two weeks of activity here on the blog we’ve passed over 1,300 hits and have gathered almost 100 followers. We’re all in this together. You are not alone and you are loved. For this post I thought I’d focus more on what it feels like as I gradually get more depressed. As I’m sure all too many people can relate to.

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When I often describe that I’m in a low or slipping some people have a hard time understanding what I mean. These words usually have different meaning in every day use, but when I’m in a depressive state they are accurate descriptions of how I feel. It can start in a room full of people I know and love and will gradually feel myself start to slip. My senses start fading, my eyes get heavy, I feel like I’m moving backwards into myself. I slip. And in that feeling I find myself in that low. I feel reduced to nothing but my thoughts, and those thoughts themselves are useless. They’re meaningless, and they’re negative.

Article dear hope
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On The Outside Looking In: Mental Illness

About a month ago I was wasting time browsing through my Facebook newsfeed wondering why I’m still friends with as many people as I am when I came across an article an old english teacher had shared called “My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward”. That’s an interesting title I thought. Upon further observation I realized that this was a personal tale from a man named Mark who knew almost nothing about mental illness as his wife, Giulia, descended into madness from hers. But here’s the best part you don’t hear too often. He stayed by her side and still loves her after two check-ins with a psych ward.

Article dear hope
— 36 Comments

Coping (Rituals) – Entry 1: Depression

We all have different ways in which we cope. Tragedy can often leave the strongest people on their knees, resulting in desperate attempts to do something, anything, to make whatever pain they’re feeling go away. Even if it’s temporary. Some of these things however, can be destructive. They can develop habits that walk next to them for the rest of their life. Have you ever lost someone who you loved? How far did you go to numb that pain? If you’re one of the people who has experienced this already, can you remember what that felt like? The complete loss of care or self worth, filled with sadness, grief, maybe even anger? And at the time there’s nothing anyone can really say to help or make those feelings go away. It’s something that takes time. But in time you learn to live with the fact that they are gone, and you do little things to remember them by. To carry their legacy, you move forward.

Coping: This Is Who We Are dear hope