lunacypoet

[lunacypoet]

Low

I’ve been feeling pretty low again recently. I’ve been trying to keep myself distracted the last few days to pretend that it isn’t happening, but it hasn’t worked. It’s just delayed the inevitable. And yeah, I laughed a bit here and there, and I had some good moments too. But I keep finding myself zoning out and just disappearing into that low space again. I know it’s gonna take a while before I finally get used to the ups and downs, but it’s just so hard on these days where I don’t want to get out of bed or speak to anyone. I know I’ve got people I can talk to, and I know they would happily listen. But this is something I have to get through on my own, so I’m gonna try my best to do this for me.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

The Seven Seas

It hit me last night just how much I can feel all at once.

It comes in waves (more like a tsunami),

And it drags me under relentlessly.

Deeper and deeper until the seas pour from my eyes (all seven of them).

I want to make it stop.

Build myself a dam and keep it all at bay.

One made of branches and trees rather than patching up the holes with twigs (where it will finally stay in place).

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

All My Fears

I’m alone again in my room. This is my fourth panic attack of the day and even my anxiety meds aren’t helping to calm me down. I’ve reached out to 6 people for help and not a single one has responded. And suddenly I am a kid again, alone in my bedroom, wishing I had someone to comfort me and hold me and tell me everything will be okay. I’m waiting for my parents to come home, or pick me up from school again, and I’m terrified that they’ll never come back. I’m all alone again and I’m so scared I can’t breathe. And as much as I love the people in my life, I’m never anyone’s priority. Once again I’ve been put on the back burner, left to become ash. Half an hour I’ve been here crying and shaking just waiting for someone to read my message. And I’ll probably delete the message before they see it because I don’t want to bother anyone any more than I already do. Most of the people I’ve messaged aren’t even in the same part of the country as me, I don’t need it to be physical comfort, I just needed someone to show me they care. I don’t want to be that scared little kid again, I can’t end up like that again. I promised I would get better. I need to be better.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

Enough

I’ll never be enough.

Not for my friends, or my family, or love.

I’m not pretty enough.

I’m not skinny enough.

I’m not happy enough, or sad enough, or strong enough.

I can’t love enough.

I can’t feel enough.

I can’t be enough, or want enough, or express enough.

I’ll never be enough for someone to love me.

I’ll never be enough for someone to embrace who I am.

I’ll never be enough for someone to help me, or see me, or want me.

But most of all I’ll never be enough for myself.

And I’ve had enough.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

The Lonely Hours

I’m really lonely right now. Like really lonely. I haven’t had a proper conversation with anyone other than people at my new job and short calls with my family back home in a week. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. I appreciate them checking in on me daily now that I’m 300 miles away from home, but what ultimately led me to this move was the chance to get away from them, even if it’s just for a year. I just wanted my freedom and the chance to make some new friends. 

Since I’ve been here I’ve met only one person who barely replies to me. I currently have no flatmates to talk to and I’ve spent all week going between work and an empty flat alone. I get the occasional message from a friend back home to check in on me but they never stay in the conversation long enough to have a proper talk. I get that everyone’s busy, they all have jobs and other stuff to manage, but I just thought after telling them that I was alone that someone would bother to jump on a video call even for like 10 minutes to talk to me and try to get me through it.

I’m a pushover. I’ve always known it and I constantly try to get over it. But the one thing I’ve noticed about being a pushover is that once people get what they need from you; your time, your advice, your company; you become disposable when you need them. They’re always too busy for you. Always too busy. Even after you’ve sacrificed all your time needed to work on important tasks for them so they’re not alone. Even when you stay up until 4am the night before an exam to talk them out of doing something they’ll later regret. It’s the same every time. And it doesn’t hurt less the more it happens. It just makes me expect it, and it’s so disappointing. 

And I know this feeling won’t last, and soon I’ll be back to normal again. And I know that no one I know in real life will see this and I like it that way, because then I can deal with this alone. It’s just the worst feeling right now being in a new place on your own with no one to turn to for help. Especially when it takes a lot for me to ask for help. God knows I’ve asked. I’ve practically begged for it this week because I recognise my own triggers and this has triggered my anxiety and panic response tenfold. I’ve had multiple panic attacks daily and I’m on the edge of SH again, and that’s the part that gets me. It’s that all this could be prevented if I had just one person to talk to for a little bit to clear my head. But until then, I’ll keep pushing forward and see where life takes me.

Thanks to anyone who stuck around long enough to read this.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

The Harbinger of Death

“This is the end”, I say.

I hear you reply, “the end of what?”.

“This is the end”, I repeat, solemn and dull, like the harbinger of death.

My life slowly falling, like the sands through the hourglass, as I sink into slumber.

Into a dream more like reality than the life I used to live.

One where I no longer recognise my own features, as if I were someone else.

And yet, the unfamiliarity is somewhat comforting.

Offering me a reprieve from my self-hatred.

You watch me slip out of this consciousness and into the next, recognition following swiftly behind as if on a leash.

“This is the end”, I say, one final time.

~ Lunacy

Note: this one was difficult to write for many reasons, one of which being that I wrote this in a delirious fever due to being sick. Another reason unfortunately being my very fragile mental state, and although this may not mean anything to anyone else, it means a lot to me, even in my currently crazed condition, and that is enough.

[lunacypoet]

Chronically Single

I’m that friend that’s chronically single. The one you feel sorry for all the time because she’s alone. The one you feel guilty talking to about your relationship because I wouldn’t know how that feels. It’s not all bad, I can at least pretend to understand what it’s like through what you tell me, and sometimes that’s nice. I want to be happy for you. I really do. But it’s harder other days when I realise that’s it’s been so long and no one wants me. People in relationships keep telling me “it’s okay, the right guy will come along one day and it’ll all be worth it”. “Be patient”, I’m told. I’m 22. I’ve been patient long enough. I’ve never been kissed, or had a relationship. I’ve never even had someone remotely interested in me. I don’t blame them really, I don’t have that much to offer apart from my fragile heart. But it wants to love someone and have someone love it back. I know 22 is young, and I’ve got a long life to go, but it hurts when everyone around you isn’t single. Days out and phone calls become relationship-centred. And again I can never relate. And the worst part about it is that I’d rather have my heart broken into a million pieces than not have had anything. Because it would mean I was at least worth something to someone at the start. I think that’s what Tennyson meant. It’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. At least there was love once. I’ll keep waiting but it’s becoming more of a dream than a real possibility now. Until then I’ll remain chronically single. ~Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

So, it’s been a while. I haven’t felt like posting much recently mainly because I’ve been so numb and I couldn’t get the words out. This’ll be the first time I’ve been angry enough to vocalise my thoughts.

It’s been hard. I’ve been struggling more and more with my mental health, specifically my depression. It’s getting harder to hide it. The constant feeling of wrongness inside my chest, the need to be anywhere but here, have any other life than my own. I showed that side of me to my parents for the first time last week and all they did was make fun of me and turn it into me ruining their day because I’ve not spoken to anyone and I’ve been too weak to go out with them. It’s shit, but it’s not going to happen again because next time I’m not going out at all. On top of that I’ve made several plans with friends who have cancelled on me or changed the plans. They all seem to have forgotten that it was my plan originally, and that it was going to be for my birthday. Now instead of going out somewhere special I have had to stay local and invite people that I don’t know because that’s what everyone else wants. I just wanted one night out somewhere nice where I could dress up and forget about my problems. And now I can’t even do that. The only saving grace I have is the thought that I’m going to be moving out to another part of the country far from here to start a new job. It’s my one chance to start over and become someone new, hopefully find better friends and live my life how I want, not how my family want to control me. I’m counting down the days, and right now I’m on seventy-six. I’ve got seventy-six days until a change of pace. But what worries me most is not the move, or making new friends, or starting a new job, or being far from family. It’s the fear that nothing will change except the scenery. That instead of crying in my room, I’ll be crying on a beach somewhere. Because every “change” I’ve had so far has ended up the same way, with me depressed and anxious, struggling to keep myself afloat. I just want to swim this time. Please let me just swim. ~Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

Clouds

I look out the window of the car and watch as the clouds slowly drift by.

Remembering how I used to make things out of them,

All the animals I would spot and their stories.

Now I sit here trying my best to even make a single shape.

And I can’t do it.

They’re just clouds.

Nothing more than gas.

And that scares the hell out of me.

~Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

This is a little project I have been working on of all the songs that helped me get through writing my dissertation. During that period of time my depression and anxiety got worse to the point that I became suicidal. I am so lucky that I managed to pull through that period, and even though I am not entirely through it, I am glad I no longer feel that bad. These songs kept me going on the worst days. This was originally going to be something just for me. But after thinking it through I decided to post it as a way of reminding myself that I got through it. To anyone going through difficult times, please don’t give up. Try to take a few minutes to listen to your favourite songs to offer yourself some well deserved peace. You can do it.

[lunacypoet]

Creation or Destruction?

When this all started, the universe was created,

Along with humanity and the planet we call home.

The exhaustion and energy put into developing such complex creatures,

Tired them out and left them for dead.

They left us to our own devices, to flourish and grow.

To invent, and heal, and multiply.

To destroy, and wage wars and kill.

We begged and begged for them to help,

Offer us salvation, improve our way of life.

We asked and asked and never offered anything in return,

For giving us life in the first place, and then destroying it for paper and power.

(The) God(s) has (have) since left us, and no amount of tears will bring them back, for we do not deserve such mercy.

We did not help them heal from the torture,

And the heartache of bringing us into existence,

Even when we had developed such skills,

For we were too curious and never satisfied.

And for our greed we will suffer,

With no repentance we will never have redemption.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

I lied to my therapist today. Again. I told her I was doing better, that I’m improving. I didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth. That I’m starting to lose it all again, that I’m getting bad. It was our last session so I wanted her to feel like I had improved so she wouldn’t have to worry about me after this. I gave her the hope that I don’t even have for myself. I just gave it away. What do I do now?

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

I never knew it could be this hard. I didn’t realise all the stress and pain and depression that would come from education. They always tell you it’s not going to be easy, which I was expecting. I just wish I had known that it was going to be hard because I can’t get out of bed, or that I’d be stuck in a pandemic with most of my learning online, confining me to my room. It’s no longer my room, it has become a dump for my clothes and half empty mugs of long forgotten caffeine. It’s where I spend my days staring at a screen without accomplishing anything. I can’t even sleep in there anymore because I associate it with stress, so I stay awake most nights making my sleep deprivation worse. It’s my own personal torture chamber, my own prison cell. And I just don’t know if it’s worth it anymore. It’s not like it was ever my dream, it was just something I thought I would enjoy whilst having a stable job. But now coming to the end of this, I’ve realised that I don’t even like it anymore. It’s just more things for me to try and force myself to remember when half the time I can’t even remember my own name. I just want to go back to dreaming of being a full-time writer, and never having to worry about money or a place to live. But it’s too late now, and I owe myself this degree even if I don’t want it.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

I Surrender

I surrender.

To the death awaiting me, I can feel your grip on my heart.

Talons sinking deep into the flesh, desiring the life in the blood.

You find comfort in the beating, a steady rhythm like a symphony.

Waiting for the silence that comes after, a familiar sound.

After all, you never did like music did you?

You only liked the sound of your own name in my head.

So tonight I’m letting go, where I can watch the flames in your eyes burn for me every night.

What use did I ever have for a heart anyway?

I have never known love, not really.

It really was a waste on me.

Perhaps now you can love me, my beautiful stranger.

And I can finally give in to you.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

To anyone that sees this, even if that’s just me, I just want to say that it’s okay. It’s okay that you feel like this. I know how it feels. I know what it’s like drowning in an immortal body, having the water fill your lungs until they burn but never dying. No matter how much you want to.

All of this torture is just you wanting to live. Because what is life without the living part? And I know you can barely make it out of bed in the mornings, and sometimes you even find it hard to breathe, but it’s okay. You don’t need to feel guilty. Not for wanting to go out and try to live your life, or trying to enjoy yourself when you’re out with friends. Don’t feel guilty about the laugh that falls from your mouth, you’re allowed to try even when you feel like you shouldn’t. It’s not your fault you’ve lived with this so long that you’ve formed a relationship with it. Just remember that even when it hugs, it suffocates you more, you don’t owe it anything. It’s okay to try.

If you read this, it’s okay. Just try to live, for me.

~ Lunacy

[lunacypoet]

If this manages to calm the voice in my head for a minute then I know I’ve won. I’ve won every battle I’ve ever had with my brain in the past. Because this hobby of mine started out as a coping mechanism, to shut that voice up for a while. The one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’m too fat, that I’m stupid, and ugly, and worthless. The one that tells me that’s why I’m so alone, and why I’m loveless. Why no one will ever give me a second glance. Why I’ve been alone all these years, afraid that I’ll be like this forever. I still believe the voice even now, and I don’t think that will ever change, but at least if I can turn it down for a while this will have been worth it. The months of writing at 3 am just so I can get to sleep for a couple of hours. It will all have been worth it in the end. I just need some sleep, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

~Lunacy