Insomnia: I Had A Dream I Fell Asleep

My entire body is heavy.

Unknown-5

My eyelids blink with the consistency of a frozen stream. The entire room is an object in motion with the lowest shutter speed from a camera a few decades old, rusted through the dust that collects on the outside of my pupils. I roll over in an attempt to make myself more comfortable.

3:40 A.M reads the clock on my bedside.

I sigh and roll back over, throwing my arm over my forehead with my palm facing upwards.

It’s been two weeks of this. Going on three. Why can’t I sleep? Please God let me sleep.

I’m tired but the sleep won’t find me. I remain invisible to the dust that needs to fall on my eyelids. It’s like I don’t exist. The rest of the world is asleep and here I am,

Awake.

Alone.

With only my thoughts.

Article dear hope Insomnia

A Phone Call To Connecticut, A Phone Call From Idaho

Last fall, I called a friend who I hadn’t spoken to in a long time and got the following response:

“Paul if I don’t change something, I’m not going to survive winter. 

I’m going to kill myself.”

Struck by the suddenness of his words that pierced my ear that the phone was pressed against, I responded the only way I could. With empathy and full attention.

images-11

I knew this friend had been struggling for a long time, we had been friends for years. Our struggles united us, and we had many talks through our friendship of existentialist questions filled with identity and purpose. But it had never been had real as this.

It had never been as scary as this. 

Article dear hope

Coping: This is Who We Are Entry 3 – “From My Suicide Note to Now, A Heart Moving Outwards”

I don’t really know where to start.

images-8

I didn’t really understand what I’m going through, and what I have gone through, until some point last year. After being informed that there was an actual name for everything I’d been experiencing, I began to take quite a different outlook on, well, everything. But I digress.

My name is Danny. I’m 21. I go to college. I have a job. I have friends. I like movies, music, sports, and many other things that normal people my age would enjoy. I smile like everyone else, I go about my daily routine like everyone else, and I have fears, just like anyone else. These are normal parts of my identity that many people know. But what I don’t broadcast is that I have suffered from Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder for as long as I can remember. After digging up some earlier stuff in therapy this past year, I can deduce that my earliest memory of these disorders was around 7th or 8th grade. I remember sitting in Science class, existing as an introverted adolescent, and thinking about how wonderful it would be to kill myself. This is a thought that would follow me for the next eight years.

332 Coping: This Is Who We Are dear hope

Mental Illness is Real: An Anti-April Fools Day Post

Today is April fool’s day, but you won’t be finding a prank or gag from me on here.

imgres

It’s not because I have no sense of humor, or don’t enjoy messing with people every once in a while, but because the topics discussed on this blog are so personal and crucial to so many people’s beings. There’s a lot of people out there who feel mental illness is still treated like a joke, when it is the farthest thing from. I know I’ve felt this way. And I know a lot of other people still do.

Article dear hope

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

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

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

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