Tag: mental illness

It’s A New Day

A Girl In A Complex World

Heart palpitations
Nausea
Nightmares
Pain at the slightest sensation on the surface of my skin
Sweating
Shivering
Phantom arm pain
Stomach cramping
Itching
Brain fog
Deep muscle and joint pain
Dizziness
Ringing ears

That is an incomplete list of things I have been experiencing over the last 12 days,

  AND

I’ve survived it all! I started back on my meds yesterday so I’m hoping some of this settles a bit.

Self love is not my friend. While reflecting on recent days though I can’t help but feel a slight glimmer of something deep in my heart. I survived! 2 very challenging weeks that were filled with mental, emotional and physical pain. Yet I’m here right now – alive, intact, and conscious.

Our medical system really let me down this time. Radical acceptance of this is a tough one. But I have pulled skills from toolboxes I didn’t even know I had. This past week especially required me to often use some sort of coping skill to get from one moment to the next. My mind has been in a very dark place.

My faith has been the top thing that has carried me through. I felt like I was reliving the rock-bottom days of my drug addiction and the first days of rehab. I truly thought I was dying then – a slow painful death. I know there is a big difference between cocaine addiction and my current meds for depression, anxiety, blood pressure, and a couple of other things. Completely different situations. But that’s what all of this has felt similar to.

Today is a better day. Nausea has subsided for now. Am about to leave my house for the first time in a while. I have an idea!! And I need 2 new bookshelves for it. My dogs are also low on food so have to stock up on that. I can’t forget to pick up some Gatorade or Pedialyte as well. I told my therapist yesterday that I would pick up some sort of electrolyte replacement drink to help with the dehydration I’m experiencing. So that’s that.

Buddy is outside, trying hard to patiently wait for me. He’s laying in the walkway, and every few minutes he barks once to tell me to hurry up. Probably should have waited before I told him we were going in the car.

Buddy, waiting for me so we can go in the car ♡

Its Not Dim Anymore

A Girl In A Complex World

Ive dealt with disordered eating for as long as I can remember. It’s like it functions by a dimmer switch. It’s always there to some degree. Sometimes the switch is turned down and, while never really on friendly terms with food, sometimes it’s not all-consuming. Purging is random and not an everyday occurrence during those times. Thoughts are not centered on food all day.

Then the switch gets turned up. Something will be particularly activating and the behaviors become prominent again. l have a few days or weeks where food is at the forefront of my mind and restricting, binging, and purging is what everything revolves around day and night.

Then the dimmer switch will turn down and I can pull myself out of the cycle again. 


This time it’s proving to be much harder to pull myself out of it. There was no gradual onset. And I can almost pinpoint the exact moment the alarms started going off in my head. It was when I was in the hospital a few weeks ago …

I was in the bed connected to the various tubes and machines, with no clothes on, just several blankets wrapped around me, bags of glucose and potassium running into my neck, fluids, and calcium flowing in through an IV in my foot, I had a catheter…

2 nurses were at my bedside with juice, cookies, and cheese telling me I had to eat it and they weren’t going to leave until they watched me finish it because after all, that food was my ‘medicine’ … 

I was severely hypo-glycemic and it was imperative that they grasp every possible solution, and that included food with simple sugars.

Since that moment my mind has become preoccupied with every single bite of food I take. The monster in my head has woken up and is on a vicious rampage. I gained a few lbs in those 2 weeks b/c of everything I had to eat. And drink. So many calories were consumed through fluids alone!

3 days before I was discharged they took the catheter out and I could get out of bed then. The first thing I did was go and throw up. The tubes in my neck complicated things a bit because the pressure of vomiting kept causing the alarms on the IV pole to go off. But once I figured out what the different buttons were for I was able to turn off the alarms by myself.

So here I am, spiraling. I’m mentally and physically unwell because of the sudden lack of medication in my system. So vulnerabilities are running high. I feel raw, trying to claw my way out of this mess.

And what a mess this is.

All Out

A Girl In A Complex World


SO FRUSTRATED. 

I spent a good part of Thursday, Friday, Monday and today trying to track down a copy of my hospital discharge summary from a few weeks ago. It was supposed to have been faxed to my pharmacy but it wasn’t and they refuse to release my meds to me until they have that document.

Needless to say I’m feeling pretty miserable. Withdrawing cold turkey from 6 medications at once is not fun. Not to mention the fact I’m not supposed to abruptly stop any of these meds without medical supervision.

Cold shivers. Pain. So much pain deep in my bones. And itchy. That part is strange. Its like my skin is crawling. And burning. Its like I’m covered in mosquito bites, except I’m not. I also haven’t slept much in over a week now so I’m also pretty tired. And the throwing up. (I don’t know if that’s fully med related though because I was vomiting before I ran out of meds on Thursday.)

Like seriously, how does an original medical document get mailed to someone then become unaccounted for?

That Was Then. This Is Now.

A Girl In A Complex World

I sweep the shower curtain aside. A few water droplets fall from my hair before gliding down over my bare chest. My skin is bright red from the hot water. Steam rolls out through the window that was slightly ajar. It’s been a busy weekend, but it’s over now and we’re back home again.

It’s mid afternoon and David is in lying down, trying to catch a nap before he heads in to work tonight. Last night was a late one for us. Being the designated driver David spent the early hours of the morning taking ppl home. It was almost 4am when our heads finally touched the pillow. 5 hours later we were back in the car again. Thank God we are home. So while he rests, with the dogs curled up beside him, I go off to shower and calm myself down. In my own shower. In my own bathroom. In my own house. Safety.

The scalding water distracted me from the thoughts that had been swirling around in my mind. The tension that was trapped in my body that had been brought on by so much overstimulation, washed off me freely, mixed with the coconut body wash.

But the second I stepped out and my foot touched the towel that was on the floor, something didn’t feel right. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Goosebumps covered my arm and legs. The frantic beating of my heart became confused with memories of someone pounding on the door. Oh my god … there was someone else in the house.

Fear wound itself around me at the thought and circulated within my mind until it flooded my entire body with panic. I pulled the bath towel tighter around me in a lame attempt to suffocate the terror. Then, I reached for the doorknob and my hand lingered there. I couldn’t turn the knob, my mind was bombarded with images of who could be waiting for me on the other side of the door.

I pulled my hand away from the door, my lungs …too paralyzed to breathe. My shoulders trembled as I held back the cry that was threatening to escape from my throat. I forced my hand over my mouth to block it. Backing up, I felt the bench on the back of my legs and I let myself fall onto the seat. What the heck is wrong with me??!

I reached for my phone on the sink next to me. Placing my thumb on the screen it recognized my fingerprint and unlocked itself. I instantly searched for David’s name and opened up a new msg window. I knew he was asleep but assumed the sound of his phone receiving a new msg would stir him. ‘Are you awake?’

I stared at the screen, silently pleading for him to pick up his phone, a feeling of something dreadful happening consumed me. No response. I msged him again. ‘I’m really sorry for bothering you. I know you’re tired, my honey. But can you get up for a minute?’

Still no response. I thought of calling instead. The ring is louder than the new msg notifications. But that would mean I would also be required to speak. I couldn’t do that. My voice was currently non-existent.

A sob got stuck in my throat and my body trembled. I felt the sting of tears on my cheeks. Panic was pulsing through my veins. I thought to myself, “This is insane. There is nothing out there. There is no one out there! This is ridiculous. Why am I so scared??” I remembered that I needed to breathe. I have a tendency to hold my breath in moments like this and have been working on becoming more aware of it. I take in a small, shakey breath through my nose. “That was then … this is now. That was then … This is now.“

I repeated the familiar words to myself several times. I stood up from the bench I had been sitting on, and reached for the doorknob again. As my fingers touched it panic surged, threatening to drown out the mantra i had just been repeating to myself.  That was then … this is now. Slowly I turned the knob and opened it ever so slightly. My chest burned from needing to exhale, but the grip of terror was strangling my throat.

I paused, waiting for that looming, dark figure to inch his way into the bathroom … but he didn’t. And suddenly I realized that it had happened again. My brain had forgotten where we were.

It’s 2024 … you’re in your own house … David is here … he’s asleep … you’re here in your own bathroom …

I turned on the tap and splashed cold water on my face. My lungs began to relax and I took a few shakey breaths. I grabbed my robe and pulled it close around my body, letting the towel fall to the floor. Feeling ashamed and broken I left the bathroom and went to our room. I quietly positioned myself on the bed next to David, sound asleep. A few silent tears fell before I cuddled in closer to his back. The warmth of his body against mine reminded me once again …

That was then. This is now.

Life Has Been Unraveling

A Girl In A Complex World

My mental health has been on a steady decline for a couple of months now. There’s been a lot that’s happened, in succession, and the stress of it all has been accumulating. Trying to manage both physical and mental illnesses why all this life stuff has been coming at me was too much and I crashed. As a result, every area of my life is now suffering.

A little over 2 weeks ago something inside of me just cracked and I attempted to end my life. In a moment of desperation, needing the mental anguish to just stop, I chose what I thought would be the solution.

After spending the past 2 weeks in the hospital, in the Intensive Care Unit, here I am sitting in the car with my husband, as we travel to his parents’ place for a 60th birthday celebration (tomorrow). I was discharged yesterday, after being cleared as well enough to leave. I feel a million miles away right now. Certainly not in the frame of mind for a party. I really don’t want to be around people.

Can I just say one more thing?

Our health care system here in Newfoundland, Canada is … I’m biting my tongue here because every word coming to mind could get me banned from WordPress … so I’m just going to say … it SUCKS.

It’s sad. Based on my own experiences my heart aches for those needing services. If it happened to me then I’m sure it’s happening to countless others. 

In my opinion, if someone almost successfully takes their life and then sits in front of you and says they are not able to function because they are so mentally unwell, I don’t this it’s even sensible to suggest they develop a better sleep routine and that you’ll chat with them in 6 to 8 weeks.

Dude, if you ony knew the half of it ……

Warrior In The Making

A Girl In A Complex World

You are a warrior!

You’re not crazy. It has all been real, and it stretched you, and at times, it has felt as if it would even kill you.
Their words broke your heart.
Their actions broke your trust.
That injury broke your body.
That illness broke your hope.
That circumstance broke your spirit.
BUT GOD…
He came to overcome it all.
And guess what?
It never broke you!
It challenged you, and it LOST!

You’re still here. You’re not “just” a survivor. You’re a fighter. You’re a warrior. And yes, you may be covered in scars, but they are scars of deaths defeat! Your scars have become a memoir of your  journey, and they tell ONLY a story of triumph!

You see, they don’t see you the same way anymore, because a warrior was birthed from the destruction and fires in your life! What was meant to kill you, didn’t and while some keep judging you for starting over, others are clapping because you never quit! You went into the flames covered in life’s grit, but came out of the fire polished in Gods grace!

The abuse, the pain, the anxiety, the bullying, the fear, the anguish, the doubt, the worry, the crushing, the pulling, the words, the moments, the days and the years – were real, but so was your strength and resilience. You did it. You survived everything they said you wouldn’t! You are still standing, and you are a WARRIOR!

Major Anxiety

A Girl In A Complex World

A lot has happened over the past week. My uncle passed away which meant I had to go back to my hometown, which happens to be at the top of my list of least favorite places on earth.

The 2 days I was there have stirred up a lot of unwanted crap, bringing on a stream of anxiety. I’m drowning in waves of it. Just when I get myself back to baseline, my body stops trembling and I allow myself to take a breath, the air gets stuck in my throat and I start gasping again.

Too much. It’s too much.

The Complexities of Reading

A Girl In A Complex World

Reading is so friggin frustrating. Books used to be my escape.  Growing up I was an avid reader. I never went anywhere w/o a book and I usually had more than one going at a time. There’d be one in my bedroom that I’d be reading, I’d have another that I’d carry around with me and I’d read a few pages whenever I had a few minutes to spare, and then I’d have a 3rd that I would read at night in the bath. I’d soak in a hot bubble bath and read until the water went cold. When I was in high school that’s how I’d also do my studying for exams. And I’d have no trouble whatsoever keeping the storylines straight when switching between books.

Now I can’t even keep focused on one and I hate that. I’d give anything to be able to pick up a book and read like that again.

I love books. The smell of the paper when you open a book for the first time. Mmmm. One of the best smells ever! But reading is super frustrating. It could be a book or an article online. Blog posts. Anything really. Unless it’s something I am extremely interested in. Then I can soak up every single word. But generally, reading is a real challenge.

I will read the page, but after I get to the bottom of that page I realize that I was thinking about something else and didn’t really read the page even though I was reading. I know, sounds stupid.

So, I read it again. I read a few sentences and by the time I get to the bottom of the page … same friggin thing. So I read it over  again … concentrating this time. But I get distracted by the fact that I am concentrating …

By this point, I have read, and absorbed maybe half of the page. This is no exaggeration. In fact, this is more of a watered-down version of actual events.

Like seriously. Something so simple as reading a book is such a frustrating thing for me. I have a shelf, lined with books waiting to be read and all I can do is avoid them.

They merely serve as a reminder of yet another thing that is extra difficult for me.

Awareness Isn’t Enough

A Girl In A Complex World

One of the pitfalls of healing childhood trauma, in my opinion, is awareness.

Let me explain.

When you are at a point in your life where your history of trauma is affecting you on a daily basis you decide to enter some sort of journey towards healing. This may take on many different forms. It may involve finding a trauma specialist and entering some hard core trauma therapy. You may start seeing a therapist for some general therapy to help you figure things out. Or maybe you dive into it from a self help perspective. Whatever you choose, you just know that your past trauma is wreaking havoc on your present life.

So you’re on a new journey. You have information at your fingertips. So you do a deep dive into whatever you can get your hands on. If it relates to trauma then you are interested. Maybe you will find the very thing that will fix all your problems.  So you read websites and books and articles. You watch YouTube videos and listen to podcasts. You want all the information that you can find. 

In your search for answers you have several breakthrough moments where you realize why things are the way they are in your own life. You learn things. You fill your mind with all kinds of professional jargon. You read all about trauma recovery and the various steps it involves.

Ta da! You’re all fixed! You know all there is to know. You’ve taught yourself all about it. You’ve had your ah-ha moments and you have it all figured out!

There’s the pitfall. You consider your new knowledge and awareness to be exactly what you needed. Sound anything like you?

Yeah, me too.

Unfortunately awareness doesn’t change anything about your actual situation. You may now know why things are the way they are. You may understand more about your diagnosis of cPTSD. You may even think you don’t need therapy after all. You’ve figured it out!

Except, your life continues to unravel and you feel more lost now than you ever were before. Its because you’ve mistakenly thought that awareness was the answer. I did too.

Healing requires so much more than education and awareness. It requires action. Change.

I’m Still Here

A Girl In A Complex World

For the first time in weeks I feel a little bit like myself again. Its probably been more like months but the few weeks have been especially challenging. My mental health has been on a steady decline since the summer came to a close and then I took a nose dive and crashed head first into rock bottom.

There was no one single incident that took place to push me over the edge. I’d been fighting to hold on for a while and my rope just grew so thin that it broke. I’ve been so tired. Just the simple daily stuff has even been too much. Folding laundry had been leading to meltdowns. Once 2 then 3 baskets became filled with clean clothes I’d sit and cry because there was no basket for the dirty stuff. My husband walked in one day and found me sitting on the couch with a towel in my hand, sobbing. I had gotten out of the shower and our 3 laundry hampers were filled with clean clothes so there was nowhere to put my towel or dirty clothes. Folding it felt so far beyond what I was mentally able to process. I thank God for my incredible husband who stepped in and took it over, while I sat there crying and holding on to the towel.

Eating. Drinking. Walking. Talking. Even breathing felt pointless.

And sleep. I don’t know how long I had been without sleep but I know I was into night 3 at least because my husband was working his 3rd 12 hour shift that night and I hadn’t been to bed at all during that stretch of time. I had been purposely avoiding food and water because in the back of my mind I was thinking that the weaker I could make my physical self … the more tired and worn out and deprived I could become … the faster my body would give up at the end.

I had every aspect of my death planned out. How I was going to do it, where I would be, what I would be wearing, precise timing of everything, who would find me, details about my funeral wishes were written down and placed in my wallet with my ID and other important cards, etc

What I didn’t take into consideration was how weak and worn out I actually was. And the apathy … I didn’t care. I was completely shut down. I had been experiencing waves of emotion in between the numbness but for 3 days straight I was a zombie. I just gave up caring.

So those things paired with all the despair and brokeness I had been feeling resulted in a week long stay on the intensive care unit then a transfer to a different hospital an hour away, which is the only place that has a psychiatric inpatient unit in our district. And that’s where I’ve been for the past few  weeks.

Being in the hospital is a challenge all by itself. But today I ventured out of my room and wandered into the main lounge where several staff members were putting up the Christmas tree. A security guard came with a guitar and began singing. After a while I joined in and for the first time since my Nan’s funeral 2 years ago, I sang in front of a group of people.

Today, I feel hope.

All Flared Up

A Girl In A Complex World

My pain level has been pretty extreme the past couple of days. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) around 7/8 years ago, after being in a pretty bad car crash. Many of my injuries fully healed while others became permanent problems. So the pain receptors in my brain are all messed up. They frequently send signals around my body, that basically scream DANGER, and various parts of me act as if they’re suddenly being crushed and shredded and ripped apart.

So that’s where I’m at today. On the couch with a heated blanket wrapped around me (many thanks to my clothes dryer!), my 2 dogs close by, hot lemon ginger tea, a bottle of morphine, and Netflix. But I feel like I’m about to lose my freakin mind! I can’t stand not being able to do stuff. To be still and quiet and just relax … its actually painful. Mentally painful. So I’m pretty well maxed out in the pain department today. I can’t say I’m overly surprised by this though.

Different things trigger these flare ups and determine the severity. Many times I don’t know what it was but sometimes I do. Right now though my guess would be stress. My mental illness is trying really hard to destroy me and my body has been on the receiving end of some not so healthy attempts to make myself not feel it. I never anticipated though that a bump on my head would cause my entire body to overreact like this. But here we are.

A Girl In A Complex World

What have you been putting off doing? Why?

EVERYTHING!!

Dishes … laundry … returning a call to my mom, who has been calling for 2 days but I don’t have the strength to pick up the phone and utter the word ‘hello’.

I’ve been putting off hanging a pile of shirts in our closet, but hey, at least it’s all clean..

I’ve been putting off some photo editing as well. I have a little over 120 pictures needing to be uploaded to my laptop, and sorted then edited but I haven’t been able to get in a clear frame of mind to even be able to think about it.

I’ve also been putting off something else… asking for help, telling somebody … because I anticipate that things will get a lot worse if I do. Depression has flooded every part of me, both physically and mentally. I have very little control over what enters my mind. From terrifying images that flash without warning to lines from songs that get stuck on repeat, over and over and over to absolute silence.

A couple of ppl know I’m not well but they aren’t in any position to help. My psychiatrist is out of the country until the new year. I have no more options. Unless … I go to my family doctor. Tell her how severe my insomnia has become. But I’ve been putting it off because …

I’m scared. I’m scared of having to answer any questions she may have because I really don’t want to talk about the fear, the dreams, the feelings, the memories …….

Do You Have An Anchor In Your Toolbox?

A Girl In A Complex World

Sometimes I need to be reminded of things that are outside of this particular moment. I get so caught up in what I’m feeling right now or I get stuck in a memory loop, where I have one specific flashback that plays repeatedly, consuming me … I forget that I have an entire life outside of this place where I’m stuck. That’s where I have been discovering that any type of visual reminder, of a positive moment, helps me to become grounded. I have added a few videos and pictures to a folder on my phone and I’ve been sitting here in my bathroom, watching the videos on repeat.

This one shows a moment from this summer that has stayed with me very vividly. The way I felt in that moment was something I became very mindful of so I’m guessing that’s why I can feel it to be so real. I had been walking the beach near my house and my 2 dogs were with me. We’d had 2 days of rain so they were super happy to be outside and get to run around. When I stopped I took in all of my surroundings and I felt such an incredible warm feeling run through the center of my chest. Everything in that moment bordered on perfection. The direction of the sun, the temperature, the light breeze in my hair, the warmth from the sun shining down on my face, my dogs barking after each other as they zoom past me to chase each other through the salt water …

There are always things that you can cling to in moments of difficulty that can serve as an anchor. You might have one specific thing or many different ones. Whatever the case might be, use them. If you have to watch a 17 second video 29 times in a row to get the trembling in your bones to stop, then do it. You so deserve to be reminded of these moments of joy when the weight of depression is trying to crush you.

Having achors to keep you grounded is a great tool to have in your toolbox. One of my go-to skills.

Just sayin’.

I’m (not) OK

A Girl In A Complex World

This song hit me like a ton of bricks last night. See, I have this thing about always saying I’m ok. If I was on the floor, crying, and bleeding I would still look up at you and tell you that I’m ok. It seems like those are the only 2 words that exist in my vocabulary sometimes.

So last night I was in a pretty dark mood and instead of seeking out positive things to draw out a lighter mood, I was like … screw this DBT stuff. I was angry but no idea why. And the sadness was so heavy that it was almost tangible. I opened up youtube and just started going from one song to another and then this one started playing.

It amazes me how music can so accurately speak for me when the words aren’t there. At the beginning of every session my therapist asks me how I am doing and my automatic response is … I’m okay. Every. Single. Time. Because I don’t have the words to accurately answer her question. To be honest, I don’t think I know how to be anything other than ‘okay’.

So for now, I’ll let the lyrics of this song say it for me. And while it plays quietly in my ear I’ll just keep smiling and telling you … I’m okay.

Tonight the monsters in my head
Are screaming so damn loud
But I built walls so high
So they never even make a sound

It’s a mask, it’s a lie
It’s the only home I’ve ever known
‘Cause being who I really am
Has only left me more alone

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say
I’m not okay

I wish I had a scar
Had a bruise on the surface, any kind of proof
That everything I feel is more than just some sad excuse

My life’s invisible abuse
I’m either judged or have to hide
The only symptom you can see
Is I don’t wanna be alive,

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say

I’ll never have the words, I can’t explain this hell
But what if it kills me
If I keep it to myself?
To myself

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
I am not okay
I am not okay
I’m never safe
It’s not a phase
If I finally break
Would you still stay?

Choosing Life

A Girl In A Complex World

The first time I thought about taking my own life I was 14. The first time I harmed myself I was 10. This is the reality of a 20 year battle with my health and truthfully, I’m still fighting.

I’ve struggled with being different my entire life. My insecurities have pushed me so far that I lost all value of my life. Sometimes I get a glimpse of what freedom looks like without feeling the guilt and shame for being different, but that’s all it is, a glimpse. I know that being different is a part of what makes me who I am. But the struggle to actually appreciate that is definitely real.

I don’t claim to live a life free of pain and frustration or even sickness. But I have grown a lot. My heaviness now coexists with a will to fight, and the fighter in me will have the final word.

Every day that I wake up is proof that I’m still fighting. Every hour that I don’t engage in self harm as a means of coping means that I’m still fighting. Every minute that I choose to speak truth even when my mind is screaming lies is proof that I’m fighting. But also, when I have a setback, it’s yet another chance for me to fight … again.

My reality includes a list of diagnoses that include mental illness and chronic pain, AND my reality is that I’m a complex girl who is the epitome of different, who is CHOOSING life. Everyday. And I promise you, no matter what it is that breaks you, hurts you, and makes you feel like giving up – your life is worth choosing, too.

Reset and Recharge

A Girl In A Complex World

You must understand that sometimes there will be days that you’re not in the mood to talk to anyone, even if it’s your family and your closest friends.

You will want to ignore talking in person, on phone calls, on text msgs, even on social media.

Not because you don’t care and not because you’re in a bad mood either but because sometimes your mind and body will just crave silence.
Sometimes, your soul will need silence for you to figure things out.

I want you to know that if you find yourself spacing out and distancing yourself from everyone it doesn’t mean that you’re a bad or mean person. You’re a human and it’s okay if you have a meltdown. Life can be a lot and sometimes it just becomes too much. You don’t owe anyone any explanations for choosing to prioritize what your soul needs and deserves.

Do what you have to do to reset and recharge then get back up and go again.

We got this!

These Voices In My Head

A Girl In A Complex World

I wrap the blanket tighter around my chest
And whisper to myself …
I am strong
I am beautiful

I dream of the woman I wish I could be
Strong and confident
Happy and …
Free

I don’t recognize myself today
This person in the mirror staring back at me …
Where did she come from?
Is that …
Me?!

I’m fighting voices in my head
Telling me that I’m not enough
I’m not pretty, and I’m broken
I’m not worthy of love
The voices in my head are telling me
To give up

But I keep fighting.

Words …
They can cut so deep
Why do I care so much what people think?
I wonder who I’d be if I didn’t have these insecurities
I don’t know what to think
Losing control of reality

Fighting voices in my head
Telling me that I’m not enough
I’m not pretty and I’m broken
I’m not worthy of love
These voices in my head
Shouting at me to give up

Silently I scream
Stop it!
I can’t take another minute
Going crazy with all this chaos

I tell my head to stop
And listen to my heart
And my heart says …

I’m DONE
With those voices in my head
I KNOW that I am enough
I am pretty, I’m not broken
I AM worthy of love

Time to give it up
Voices in my head …
Just shut up.

I am strong