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Todayâs the dayâ¨Iâve exhausted all I have to sayâ¨Iâve held it in, expressed itâ¨I even tried laughing it away.â¨No one can truly see it.â¨I hide it well, but thereâs no other wayâ¨The grave will be the only clue that gives it awayâ¨â¨Why would I disclose the pain in my soulâ¨Or confide in someone I barely even knowâ¨Why seek unnecessary attentionâ¨When the only solution to the problem is isolation or detentionâ¨Or feed yourself enough medication that you disappear from existence, although your body remains present, people think youâre still living.â¨â¨Iâve been trained and educated in all these signsâŚ. How did I miss them?â¨I isolate over socializing; worried that even one person might recognize them,â¨the signs that Iâve hid inside,â¨to the point where I canât even find.â¨Itâs exhausting wearing this disguiseâ¨To work, home, or family and friend dinner nightsâ¨Or on the rare occasion that I feel comfortable enough to be the person I thought and believed I once wasâŚâ¨That feeling fades away with the buzz of every drug or substance I ingest, praying the poison will kill off the person who tries to possess my body, my soul, my flesh. Until ultimately there is nothing left. But the vessel that impersonates the remanence, the imagery of a person that did once exist.â¨â¨A crisis hotline? Thatâs laughableâŚ. What on earth could a stranger say to convince you that your life is valuable.â¨Like itâs just a response out of impulse, and youâre easily distracted by all the things others want most.
Redirected with kind words and reminders of memories encapsulated by family pictures affixed to the walls on top the fireplace mantle
In reality, it consumes you. Instead of them considering it being something that youâve fixated on while awake or your subconscious robs you of any peace by lucidly displaying the imagery over and over again in your head.
My therapist was right, it does help to write. Now I can truly manifest what the voices are telling me I should do next.
I know, I know⌠Give it rest. Take your self-pity, grow-up, and stick out your chest. Be a man! Drink water, drive on. Everyone is tired of listening to this same old sad song.
This is just a poem⌠Imagine if something was truly going on.
Would you notice, would you be aware? Maybe stop and inquire as if you cared? â¨â¨How are we all aware of such an epidemic but epically fail coming up with solutions? Iâm only trying to get your mind focused on what most people this topic has alluded.
Check on your friends, co-workers, family, and the stranger at the store. NEVER presume to know their struggles or what theyâre fighting for. What is life without love, or what is love without life.
I want to be better. I want us to be better.
With all the love,
Just another person
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