I’ve been trying to fit in
while wondering why I’m trying to claw my way out of this life.

Music and solitude and darkness
cut out distractions and let me focus,
help me remember who I am.

I mourn for myself
and all the things I’ve lost
and should have been.
For the pain I carry with me every day.
Recognize that I struggle
and it’s okay to not be perfect.

I’m expecting myself to run marathons
like a whole person
when I’ve been crippled.
I can make do,
and I do really, really well.
But I’m not whole. I have never been whole. It’s not my fault.

No one has said I haven’t done well
except me.
People have said I’ve been marvelous,
except me.
I’m poisoning myself with these thoughts
and crippling myself further.

I have to get the poison out.
I have to stop fighting against what I think people think I should be.
I have to love myself. Forgive myself.
It seems to be the hardest thing in my life I have to do.

I cry enough to hyperventilate
I make myself dizzy
I scream and lash out and bite myself
and it’s just as destructive as sticking a needle in myself or a razor blade.
I have to stop hurting myself.
And it’s an emotional hurt.

I’m in a bad place.
I will fight back.
I always fight back.
I will NOT lay down and die.
I will do what I need to and get better.
I will be gentle with myself,
but I will fight the darkness
inside me.

“I’m alright.
You know.
I will survive.”