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[writteninmyshadows]

When I Was Young

When I was young

I never imagined I’d have to grow up constantly fighting for my life

I could never have imagined the amount of pain I would feel just by existing

And I especially never would have dreamed that I would be my own disease

That the sickness inside me would be that of my own soul

That my greatest enemy would be the depths of my own mind

I never would have imagined that when I grew up I would see death as a gift

A friend, a savior

Not a terrifying and inevitable end

When I was young, I didn’t know of the scars I would have to bear through my life

I didn’t know how excruciating and unbearable the act of living would be

I didn’t know of the unfathomable self-loathing my heart would one day possess

I didn’t know that I would live to be trapped within the confines of my own invisible illnesses

Nothing could have prepared me for the sorrow, for the loneliness, for the longing

No words of wisdom could have spared me this

No amount of prayer or good will

I was given this burden to bear- but why?

[writteninmyshadows]

Unholy Storm

There is a wind deep beneath my skin

Roaring against my bones,

Sweeping through my veins.

It beats fiercely at the walls of my rib cage,

Daring my lungs to void themselves of air

And demanding that my heart beat faster, faster, faster.

See, my body is a beautiful countryside, 

And my soul fills it with life and light.

But anxiety is the storm that ravages it.

My nerves are trees uprooted in the storm,

Blasted through my skin

Leaving me raw and vulnerable.

Blackberry vines thrash against my arms from within,

Tearing my flesh,

Shredding it to pieces until it is unrecognizable,

Drawing blood that is only visible to me,

Though in the right light, some may see my older scars.

Depression is the rain that beats down at the walls of the greenhouse I’ve built inside my head,

The place where I do my growing.

The place where my most intimate thoughts seek shelter,

like animals seeking warmth and comfort.

The rain floods, and spills over and out through my eyes.

The wind screams louder. 

It is angry. 

It is hungry. 

It is out for blood.

It shatters the ceiling of my greenhouse,

And glass cuts the walls of my mind,

Mutilating what was once sacred.

The animals living within seek new shelter in my chest, but once inside they see that there is wind hiding inside my lungs. 

Some try to flee, try to gnaw their way out. 

Some try to fight the storm. 

Both kinds are innocent. 

But both will die. 

Some are blown away, obliterated into nothingness by the wind, which is sharp like a blade. 

Some drown. 

All die.

Swallowed whole by my inner demons,

Because the storm, it feeds on them.

It’s all so much. It’s all so fast. I would do anything, anything to make it stop.

The storm goes on for ages, destroying everything in its path.

But, eventually, it has to stop.

What goes up must come down.

And once it finally does, I must face the devastation the storm has caused. 

I must rebuild, I must regrow.

I must mend my greenhouse,

Using stronger glass, harder to break through.

I must dig ditches, to help with future flooding.

I must nurture new thoughts, new animals to inhabit the land.

I must rest, and let the sun heal me and give life to new things.

But most importantly, 

I must burrow deep tunnels for the new animals to hide in,

Even when there is no storm,

Because you never know how fast the next one will come.

[writteninmyshadows]

I don’t know if I’m gunna make it

[writteninmyshadows]

The Traveler

When I travel anywhere, it really hits me

Just how monotonous our lives can be

Driving through small, anonymous towns

Seeing all of the small, anonymous dwellers within

So wrapped up in their individual lives

So unaware of all that is beyond their little bubble

I drive past the small, run-down gas stations

The crappy fast-food chain stops

Trailer houses with dirty, chipping paint and rusted roofs

Empty streets, with wandering passerby who I hope don’t notice me

Peeking at them from the safe haven of my car, driving down the

Ill-attended roads worn down from the bad weather of the past

I wonder, how could these people be happy?

How does one find joy in this dull, isolated place?

I know they say humans are creatures of habit

We don’t know what we don't know-

That is, we don’t know what we’re missing

We lie to ourselves and say we are happy where we’re at

Though our hearts scream at us otherwise

Only some of us truly understand the gravity of our dissatisfaction with life

Only some of us understand the plight of our imperfect human existence

We aren’t truly happy with this endless life of routine and stability

How could we be? We want so much more.

Why else would we daydream? Why else would we write stories, or make art?

We want to escape, and we all have varying levels of consciousness about it

We all have some amount of wanderlust- we all want to live, to truly live

To explore, to face challenges, to experience all the beauty that the world has to offer

Each of us, in our own way, feel this pull

But here, as I pass through these sad, dull little towns 

I see no beauty

I see no happiness

Maybe I’m not looking hard enough

Maybe this is all just me

Maybe this is just the depression talking

But it’s how I feel, and it’s how I see things

So bleak and colorless

How do the people who live here keep going?

More importantly, how do I keep going?

It’s safe to say, I don’t like traveling very often.

-EH

[writteninmyshadows]

I want to die

I want to die. I don’t say that without understanding it’s gravity. I understand what it means, for me and for everyone around me. I want to die. I want to die more than I want to survive. The thought of death gives me hope more than the thought of life does.

I can’t even talk to my best friend about it, because right now he is really trying to survive with his own issues and I can’t bother him with my own. But what I do know is that if I kill myself that he has promised he will kill himself, and I just can’t live with that. Or, well, die with that. (Haha, morbid, horrible humor.)

My entire world has come crashing down around me, and I can finally say that I have no one. I am completely and utterly alone. My best and only friend is living hours away, and has his own life. My parents are trying to take care of me, but my mom won’t stop crying because she is so worried about me and that makes me feel even worse and more guilty for wasting their time trying to make me better.

I have tried over 20 medications. I have tried almost every therapeutic practice available that my parents could afford. I have tried diet and exercise changes, I’ve gone to therapy since I was 13. Nothing has helped. In fact, everything has gotten worse.

When I tried to kill myself when I was thirteen, it was the most peaceful thing I had ever done. I just remember this feeling of complete serenity washing over me, and I felt like I could finally just let go of the pain. And then my mom rescued me, and I went to the hospital and rehab and started this whole journey of medication and therapy, and I have never felt that serenity again. Nothing has even come close.

I want to cut. But I can’t. I want to drink. But I can’t. I want to leave. But I can’t. I am stuck. I am stuck in purgatory. I am stuck in the most unimaginable pain I have ever felt. There is no way out. I want to leave, but there is no way fucking out. I want to scream. I want to hurt everyone who ever hurt me. I want to scream at them that this is all their fault.

I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don’t know what to do. I want to leave. I want to fade away. The doctors don’t know anything, no one knows how to help me, and I certainly don’t know how to help myself. No amount of “self care” baths or teas can take away this incomprehensible pain inside me. 

I want to try and write. I want to try and write something good. Maybe a horror story? Maybe a book of poems... but I’m too afraid of sounding pretentious. I’m too exhausted to do any more photography. I’m stuck.

If you have somehow wandered upon this post, forgive me if I’ve made things worse for you. 

Suicide isn’t an option for me, but neither is anything else. I’m stuck. I’m lost. I’m so fucking tired of trying. I need help, but institutionalization won’t help me. Doctors aren’t helping me. Medications aren’t helping me. No one is fucking helping me. I don’t have the energy to continue, but I don’t have the option not to. 

[writteninmyshadows]

I don’t think of you anymore

I don’t think of you anymore

When I want to play a board game, but have too few friends

Or when I hear a funny joke, that makes everyone nearby laugh

The way you used to, because you could find humor in anything

I don’t think of you anymore

When I smell that certain smell

Of a campfire on a warm summer’s night

Or when I hear the creak of a hammock in the breeze

Or see a black lab running down the street

I don’t think of you anymore

When I pass that diner downtown

Or see a small red car parked outside a house

Or watch drunken friends play a lousy game of pool

I don’t think of you anymore

When I hear our favorite band play

That song that got me through my hardest times

Or when I watch kids playing frisbee in the park

Or swing on the swing set, so care-free

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see a group of friends walking down the street

Laughing so hard they can barely breathe

At a joke unknown to me, but I smile anyways

I don’t think of you anymore 

When I see that movie we used to watch

By that director you used to love

I always thought he was just okay

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see someone drinking iced coffee

Which was all you drank, hot coffee is inferior

A large iced coffee before school always kept you going

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see the golf team’s progress

We used to have so much fun

Though we were rotten players, we had a great time

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see the pictures of someone’s camping trip

Or when I see a Peter Pan tee shirt

That I just know you would love

I don’t feel the urge to buy it for you anymore

I don’t think of you anymore

When my heart aches so bad

That I just want it to stop beating

Or when my head feels like it’s going to explode

With all of my darkest thoughts swimming around

Looking for a warm, safe place to lay their eggs

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see someone alone, reading a book

The way you were when we first met

Though we didn’t really meet just then

We didn’t speak for a year, actually

I don’t think of you anymore 

When I hear a comedian tell jokes

Or try a new flavor of ice cream

Or see some guys eating cotton candy at the fair

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see a kid with an afro of dark curls

Or an old Bucky’s tee shirt

Or French fries that someone spilled on the ground

I don’t think of you anymore

When I see with a birthmark on someone’s arm

Or watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show

Or better yet, the Perks of Being A Wallflower

We used to say you were my Patrick, my Sam, my Mary Elizabeth

It turns out you were my Craig

You never cared that much after all

I don’t think of you anymore

When I go to Powell’s to find a new book

Or have a movie night, alone

Or eat Chipotle

Which you loved, but I think tastes like shit

Or when I drink a Burgerville milkshake

Or get a pedicure, now with my mom

Or eat lasagna, the normal kind

I don’t think of you anymore

When I want to hurt myself late at night

Because the loneliness just eats me up inside

And I can’t seem to stop it from eating me whole

I don’t think of you anymore

Instead, I think of the details

The small things I remember about you

Your faces are all blurry now, 

But I remember your hair

Sometimes your eyes

Maybe a hand, or lips, or the earrings you wore

I don’t think of you anymore

Because you aren’t you anymore

You are all stuck in time, in my mind, forever trapped in the past

Because you ruined our chance of a future

And you ruined my chance at feeling like a human being who is loved 

Who belongs

Who is happy

We are all different people now

The way I remember you, is no longer you, and I accept it

Which is why I don’t think of you anymore

I promise

I don’t think of you anymore.

[writteninmyshadows]

Sickness

The earth is a sphere in which life once thrived

Until it was infected with the disease that is humanity

Likewise, my mind was once that of a dreamer

But now it’s infected with the sickness that is depression

And though I’m given many antidotes, my ailment never falters.

The earth could be saved, some say

By love, and peace, and kindness

That’s bullshit.

Because love can’t obliterate pollution, 

Peace can’t penetrate our inevitable corruption,

And kindness will never survive the hostility of war.

Similarly, these sentiments will not cure me.

Love cannot fix what’s left of me

My scars cannot be healed with sympathy and good intentions

I cannot be relieved of my pain, because I was bred to bear it.

And as the darkness closes in on us

And our breath is captured by death and despair

I will cease to exist never knowing what it’s like to be free.