Alone is okay.

When you’re a kid, sometimes other children may poke fun at you because they see you sitting by the wall alone while they are playing on the playground. You just want to play by yourself or even sing songs to yourself.

When you’re a teenager, other teens calls you boring because you don’t want to drink underage or even in general and you’d rather stay inside on a friday night watching your favourite movie, rather than go to house parties or clubs with your friends. Being around people either brings you anxiety or you just prefer to spend time alone with your own thoughts.

When you’re an adult, many other adults will notice that you can barely keep a job long enough to even say that you’ve had a job or you don’t have a partner so you won’t most likely won’t find one in a long time. Maybe it’s just hard for you to be around people or even animals for some, maybe depression makes its’ way into your head and drags you down and makes it harder for you to make it out of the house for even as something simple as a coffee.

Regardless, it’s okay to have mental illnesses. They don’t define you. It’s also okay to prefer to be alone. Sometimes for some people, being alone is more beneficial for them than conversing with someone else.

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Therapeutic Balances

On Friday October 17th, I had a consultation with a new therapist because recently I’ve decided that I need help with my mental health in general because I’ve put it off for many years and I just keep thinking that quick fixes get me places.

Quick fixes in my experience, really are just quick. They aren’t fixes, but that term just seems to follow the work “quick” sometimes.

Whether it be alcohol, antidepressants or even both of those mixed together. Longboarding, writing, singing, taking walks only soothes the soul so much when you’re burying the things that need to be worked on, pushed through.

For me, I’ve been struggling with dysphoria, with staying at jobs even through the hard times and just other things that have seem to have grown.

At first, I wasn’t sure how my appointment was going to go, because I get really nervous with Psychiatrists and Therapists, professionals in a whole. I got there early, which I wasn’t sure was going to happen seeing as I had to take two transit busses and then a subway to get there and so I waited for a bit.

While I was in the appointment, I felt so free… I’m used to telling complete strangers almost my entire life in stories and poems and whatever, but with therapists, it’s a hit and miss type situation for me. I either hide many details of my life, or I spill almost way too much. This time, I spilt enough information to help me feel great about it.

One minute I want therapy, the next I don’t, but this time I have a great feeling that I’m going to finally allow myself to get the help that I need. I realize that I may never end up being okay without therapy, but I’ll never know unless I try.

Verbal Mentality

You heard that I had tried                                                                                                                                                                                            to do myself in                                                                                                                                                                             go under the waves                                                                                                                                                                     allow them to swallow me as a whole

So you waited until the perfect time                                                                                                                                             told me of your past relationship with the devil himself                                                                                                             insisting that every step society has thought of to help recover one’s passion                                                                         for life is not tailored for each and every individual

Advice is what you sought out to give me                                                                                                                                  although you gave me your experience                                                                                                                                      that is one thing you can’t take away from someone

Continuing the conversation between drifted off day dreaming you mentioned                                                                     that if I go to see a professional                                                                                                                                        whether they be a psychiatrist or therapist and I become agitated                                                                                           at said person that they aren’t there to be my friend or to even                                                                                        purposely hurt me                                                                                                                                                                      that the reason I may have become agitated may                                                                                                                    be because those words were the truth and the truth kills

So on I went listening                                                                                                                                                            Sitting there                                                                                                                                                                        Actually paying attention to the words being verbally spewed                                                                                                then I hear the next sentence

You have to ask yourself, he said ” Do I really want to get better? ”                                                                                     Then you said that you were leaving that day to go somewhere                                                                                     suggested that I promise to give him an answer                                                                                                                        if I want him to help me or to continue                                                                                                                                  living in the darkened shadows that have become my life

I noticed you looking at me                                                                                                                                                          but as with anyone else                                                                                                                                                               I was too shy to look you in the eyes regardless what he said next                                                                                                                                                                                            I had no idea would ever exist to my ears once again until he worded them                                                                               ” Look at me, you’re a good person, you hate hearing that don’t you? Because you don’t believe that you’re a good person, but you are. ”

Thinking as it always comes naturally to me, set in and I had started putting in more effort with getting mental help after he had left and come back than I had in ages, maybe even years but it didn’t last long and here I am back to square one, starting to get therapy again

Dying Breed

I saw this little girl yesterday at the park… I couldn’t see her face very well nor her fathers, but their voices… rang in my ear as familiar

So I sat swinging, continuing to relish in the dreams that were my reality

 

Did I know them, or was it just my eyes playing tricks on my mind, skewing my vision and making a mockery of my feelings

 

Haunted by what I thought might be, I sat there, staring, and drifting off into the silence, I could have sworn I knew them, and that the father knew me, he stared at me like he knew me

 

The person I dated, yeah, she knew them, at least the versions of the people I thought I claimed to see, they weren’t them

 

couldn’t have, wouldn’t have been, so much has changed in two years, one year, a few months, now I’m here breaking, broken, but healing with self-coping, destroying everything within me and not making sense of what’s needed

 

At least I have the ability to write, because even though I go through times where I can’t, I actually can, I just need certain songs, music, TV shows to blast in the background underlying what I really need to say

Soul Department

I constantly wear something, it doesn’t glow, but it doesn’t radiate light                                                                                         Call it a mask, but I’d rather refer to it as a piece of cloth that was ripped                                                                                  from my skin                                                                                                                                                                                   It appears smooth, when it is really scruffy on the outside

Underneath, crawling insecurities bleeding through, pushing onwards                                                                                       It’s been molded perfectly, as though someone knew what it would look like                                                                           before it was placed                                                                                                                                                                 ontop of my bones

Scraping is impossible, tearing it off is what people                                                                                                                 have been trying to do to reveal                                                                                                                                       something else

But what they want to see is what they already are seeing, they just don’t care to believe it                                                               So digging inside is what they attempt to do, clawing, scratching at the windows of a soulless body

Decaying Pathogens

My eyes are glazing over with the blossoming of the sunlight                                                                                                             Clear my gaze with the extended clarity that embarks your every move

My heart is growing weaker underneath the sweaty beating rays by the sun                                                                                        Water my slowly disintegrating stringed-together breed

My soul just keeps absorbing everything in its path amongst the destructive pathogens                                                                    Make way for the decaying bumps stemming from the root of my entire existence

My lungs want to fill up with plants instead of the oxygen that they shower the world with                                                                 Tear down the barriers that are preventing my chest from becoming lightened beneath the glowing canopies