I have withheld, from my husband, how bad my mental health has gotten since my recent breakdown. In my attempt to find a way to tell him I wrote very small pieces of what it's like for me. Over a few days I had many, although not my initial intention, I put them together, made some adjustments, and now I have this...
Familiar pains viciously gripping my soul
I'm wrapped in chains, I've nowhere to go.
My days are spent in silence, every day feels the same.
As I watch my thoughts like a movie
I'm the star, in every scene.
I have no control, I can't make them go away
Not a single button works when this movie starts to play.
My psychiatrist said "They're called ego-dystonic intrusive thoughts if they go against what you believe. But if you really want to die, you know I can't let you leave."
My nights are spent sleeping with the help of a little pill
When the nightmares started I was only 14;
I'm 39 and having them still.
The movie in the day is different than in my dreams.
It's more like a prequel to the one in my sleep.
This one is over, or so it may seem,
And in the place where credits should be
A slideshow of pictures dance on the screen.
Each photo telling it's own story of a lifetime of abuse
And the options from which I have
When there's nothing else to live for
And nothing left to lose.
The memories are too painful to live through them again
So I take my little pill and climb into my bed.
The effects take hold quickly, no sense in putting up a fight.
As I drift away I quietly pray I won't make it through the night.
But the morning always comes
And I do it all over again, just like I've always done.
With a mask so great the smile reaches my eyes
And that smile so beautiful you can't tell it's a lie
It wears me down more every time that I try
To keep up the facade that I'm not dying inside
I can barely cook dinner, thoughts take over my mind
Standing there shaking, my thoughts start to fight
I'm a good person, a mom, and a wife!
But there's my wrist on the left and in my right hand, the knife
I only want the pain to stop, I really don't want to die
But when the sadness and torment take over
Just about anything seems worth giving a try
Again, I fight the urge just as I did yesterday
Put the knife down on the counter and turn and walk away
With stains on my face from tears of guilt, fear, and shame
Which serve as a reminder I have survived once again
In this battle against myself I know I can never really win
But tomorrow I will get up and survive the day the same
Because I am a candle daring to stay lit in the middle of a hurricane.
Now, there's one thing I know to be a fact;
My darling, there is nothing more fucking brave than that.