I Can Handle It. I Can't Handle It. Goodbye.

I'm depressed.
I'm anxious.
I keep telling you.
Trying to tell you.

Because,
Is it really feeling you
When you won't listen?

Mom.
Dad.
I hate my life.
I hate myself.
Im okay though.
Don't worry.

I lie.
I can't hurt you.
I can't hurt you,
And so I hurt myself instead

I cut.
I hurt.
I long for the feeling of that knife on my skin

Mom.
Dad.
I can't get out of bad.
I'm okay though.

You see,
I'm strong
Anxiety is stronger.
Depression is stronger.

I'm not only captive in my mind to these prisoners,
I am captive in my bed
Stuck, unable to move.
Unable to speak.
Only able to think.

Mom.
Dad.
I'm hurting.
I'm okay though.

Don't worry.
I'm in pain.
I can handle it.

Don't worry.
I'm suffering.
I can handle it.

But I can't.
I can't handle it.

Depression and Anxiety,
They flood my thoughts.
The flood my tears.
They're in everything I do.
I'm okay though.
I'm strong, remember?

They're stronger.
Depression and Anxiety,
They take me for a ride.
They kidnap me.
Only I think I know where the final destination will be.

Mom.
Dad.
I'm scared.
Don't worry,
I can handle it.
I can't.

My thoughts are not mine.
My movements are not mine.

Every action,
Every word,
Every thought,
Every little thing,
Is not mine.
Theirs.

Depression and Anxiety own it.
Own me.

I'm in a prison,
A prison with walls one cannot see.
But they're there.

Mom.
Dad.
I'm hurting.
I'm struggling.
Don't worry,
I can handle it.
I can't.

I can't take it.

You know it's bad when you can't stand hearing.
When you can't stand seeing.
When you can't stand tasting.
Moving.
When you can't stand living.

I look in the mirror which once was my best friend.
I look and I hate what I see.
I'm not a human.
I'm owned by Depression and Anxiety.
I'm owned by their mind.

Dear Depression and Anxiety,
I hate you.
I really do.

I call for help,
I call and call.
No one hears.

I'm drowning,
I'm sinking,
I'm crashing.
I'm dying.

I've lost 30 pounds in the last 3 months.
And, still, I am too fat.
Too ugly.

I'm a waste of space.
Where's my pills.
I need to take them.
After all, everyone medicated.
Don't they?

I see them,
I see them and I open the bottle.
I down the pills one by one.
1, 2, 3, 4,
And eventually the whole bottle.

Mom.
Dad.
I'm dying.
Don't worry.
I can handle it.
I did handle it.
I fixed it.

I feel dizzy and your world,
The one owned by Depression and Anxiety goes black.
I'm numb.
I'm gone.
I'm dead.

I'm yet another statistic.
I listened to you.
I listened, Depression and Anxiety.
Are you happy now?
Am I finally good enough.

I die,
I die, and finally,
I am released from this prison.

Mom.
Dad.
I'm depressed.
I'm anxious.
Don't worry,
I can handle it.

I can handle it,
And yet,
I am another statistic.

I'm sorry.
Just know,
I'm better now.
No more pain.
No more hate.
No more anything.
And I'm happy.

I'm happy finally.
Finally, I know how to smile.
A task which I had forgotten for so many years

I'm okay mom.
I'm okay dad.
I'm safe.
And I'm gone.

Goodbye.