At fourteen years old I should not have depression. i should not be having anxiety attacks. I should not stress out over things that are out of my control. But I cannot help it. The anxiety claws at my lungs making breathing impossible, clouds my mind so thinking is locked away in the depths of my mentality, makes my hands shake from the crippling fear of being helpless. Depression saddens me to a point that my body can not physically move from my bed in the mornings. Feelings of unneed and being worthless bombard me if a pill is not taken. Thoughts of suicide cross my mind if it all get to be too much. Thank the Creator that these moments are rare. These mental illnesses make my life on Earth a living Hell. Stress creeps its self in there and it is just to much. I break like glass hitting cement. I, like glass, can only take so much weight before I shatter. Humans can only take so much pain and abuse in this sense I am normal. We all crack and fall apart. I am on a forever journey to find someone who can find and put all my pieces back together. While writing this it is three in the morning and there are silent tears flowing down my face. They are their own rivers of sadness and insecurity. They start at the spout that contains my strength and pain tolerance reserves.My migraines help overflow these reserves. No one knows the true severity of my condition. Peace will soon emerge. I take an anxiety pill and four ibuprofen. Numbness takes over my entire being. I do not feel. No emotions such as sadness or joy. My arms are getting heavier as are my eye lids. Lately this is all I look forward to. There is no abuse from others or myself. I can feel my heart beat get slower. Adrenaline leaving my veins, fading into nothing. I am preparing to fall into my dreamless sleep. That is if nightmares do no fog my weary mind. Nightmares are not as scary for my life is much worse then any other false reality. My head is bobbing up and down as if to warn me of sleep. The last thoughts that cross my mind are of my Hell. People such as family and friends try to convince me that this is only temporary. Rage flows through my body when I hear these lies. I am stuck here like this for the rest of my life. I am falling into the small comfort my bed provides me. My lips whisper a good bye to the world as darkness surrounds me and blocks my vision. I am gone for the night....
so what do you think? was it too much?
