This poem was written a few weeks ago when I was struggling immensely with my Anxiety. Most days I manage just fine and smile through the nerves of having to talk in class or walk into a crowded place but on days like this one I am unbearable to live with. I know that I am absolutely awful to live with and if anything that makes it worse because in me feeling rubbish it makes my family feel rubbish too. It doesn’t make any difference to someone’s mood how often you tell them to be happy or get over it. What does help however, is listening to how the feel, if they feel like telling you, and just understanding that sometimes they might not be at their best. Also, telling them it is okay to not be okay helps lots too!!!

Each morning I get up,
I get out of bed,
I get myself dressed and,
I get myself fed.
I paint on my make-up,
I paint on my smile,
Then, I hope it might stay there a while.

I walk to University,
because I don’t like taking the bus,
I’m getting some exercise so at least that’s a plus.
I walk into class and sit myself down,
I try not to talk in case I look like a clown.
Scared that I might get an answer wrong,
because in my eyes then I’m not smart enough to belong.
I know that the girl next to me has probably got the same thing written down,
but to my faulty cognition it’s like I’ve spoken like I’m from a different town.

I spend my time wishing that I had some friends,
So I don’t have to always drive my mum round the bend.
I sit and wonder what I’ve done wrong when someone cancels on me.
I just can’t see,
what I’ve done,
remember what I said to make them change their mind.
Then, after that I’ll probably sit and cry.
My smile slips,
my shoulders shake,
then my heart starts to break.

You see I don’t ask for much,
I don’t want a lot.
I just want some good luck,
So I don’t always feel quite so stuck,
In a cycle of smile, cry and lie.
That I’m okay,
That I’m fine.

I’m lonely, I’m shy,
I just want to cry.
I don’t think I’m good enough,
but I want someone to see,
I could be good enough for them to spend the rest of their life with me.
People tell me I’m cynical,
because I don’t believe in happily ever after,
you wouldn’t either if your life was almost devoid of laughter.

I don’t like it when groups of people stand and laugh because I think they are laughing at me.
This faulty cognition fails to let me see,
they aren’t interested in the workings of me.
I have to wait until someone else stands up to leave because I’m afraid I’ll look rude,
I don’t like to share my thoughts sometimes in case they sound a little bit too crude.
So I just sit and listen.

Then on the other hand I want to stay in,
because the thought of going out makes me want to shout,
I can’t walk into a pub by myself because I’ll feel sick,
I know you’ll probably hear this and want to take the mick.
How can you want to go out but stay in?
Well I don’t know where to begin…

It’s hard to explain,
but I think giving it a name,
Is the first step in being able to accept,
and just so you are prepped.
Anxiety makes me scared, it makes me wait until someone else leaves the table.
It makes me scared to go out but makes me sad to stay in.
It makes me avoid talking out loud and bottle everything up,
sometimes it makes me think my life really does suck,
I have good days and bad days,
This much is true.
On the good days I can take on the world – I’m confident and almost normal.
I can smile wide and I can stick up for myself
On the bad days I’m bluer the blue.
I might not feel like talking to you.
I get clingy with the people I do have around me,
I want to feel loved and I want to fit in,
but sometimes it feels like God had made that one of my sins.

 

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