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I want to let it out.
I want to write about how im scared that people will see my scars,
about how i don't fit in my family and I don't make them proud,
about how I don't see beauty in my own mirrors,
about my inability to sleep or stay happy,
about how I can feel my wrists throb at the choking depression,
about how everyone blames me,
about how I blame me,
but no amount of words will ever describe to you how swallowed I feel when depression and panic hit me in the gut.
because the people I felt safest with handed me off like an unwanted child with the word pathetic written on my forehead and the words 'she's a handful' whispered behind my back.
I don't make people proud when I'm not cutting out holes in my chest but it's not like I make people proud when I am.
My brother is my mothers favorite.
where i am the burden.
I want to write about how im scared that people will see my scars,
about how i don't fit in my family and I don't make them proud,
about how I don't see beauty in my own mirrors,
about my inability to sleep or stay happy,
about how I can feel my wrists throb at the choking depression,
about how everyone blames me,
about how I blame me,
but no amount of words will ever describe to you how swallowed I feel when depression and panic hit me in the gut.
because the people I felt safest with handed me off like an unwanted child with the word pathetic written on my forehead and the words 'she's a handful' whispered behind my back.
I don't make people proud when I'm not cutting out holes in my chest but it's not like I make people proud when I am.
My brother is my mothers favorite.
where i am the burden.
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i don't fit in my family and it fucking hurts so much
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Comments9
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It is a tragic feeling to be overcome with depression and feel like you don't fit in in a place everyone should fit in. The feelings don't always express themselves in a way that make any sense to anyone. As someone who has battled bipolar disorder and being "other" in my own family for so long, I can vouch for this. But take heart. Every day you fight you become stronger. Every day you press on, a little wiser. And sometimes, you make your own family. It's about much more than blood. You find your safe place with safe people and you make that your home. In my Gallery is a piece about depression written from the perspective of someone who has pushed through for over 30 years. Maybe it would help you see a little light in your tunnel. Not trying to self-promote, just extending a hand. I pray you find your peace.