I don't think I'll ever be rid
Of that pause before I speak
Or that catch in my throat
Words faulting, voice growing weak.I've come to terms with worry
Of being in a constant state of fear
And the fact I'll forever overthink:
Every smile becoming a sneer.But my promise to myself
Is to never let this beat me
To still go out into the crowd
To stop trying to exist discretely.I vow to push forward, fight back
To not hide myself from society
Because while I might not win each battle
I will win this war with anxiety.© J. E. Fitzgerald, 26/07/18
A reminder to never give up even when the battle gets tough; you rule your mental health, not the other way around!
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What it Means to Live and other poems
PoetryAn anthology of poetry based on my experiences with mental health, invisible illness, identity, and my journey of self acceptance and recovery. This book includes the following collections: Section1: What it means to live - Poetry looking at the hig...