I am… unpredictable…(potential trigger)

So… last week was a bit rough for me (read: it was my time of the month and depression took over) and while I was sitting at the bottom of the figurative well, I read my “I am” poem and wondered if I had really written that. I thought that it would be interesting while I was stuck in the bottom of the damp well, to try to write another “I am” poem that felt more relevant. I’m feeling more alive now but here is what I wrote::

I am dying and invisible
I wonder why anyone is still trying to help me
I hear nothing
I see nothing
I want nothingness

I am not.
I pretend to know that I will be okay. I don’t.
I feel pain
I touch my own bruises
I worry all the time
I cry for every reason

I understand. No, I don’t.
I say this. No one hears.
I dream of rewinding my life to avoid connecting wih the people I love and will hurt.
I try to protect my family from me.
I hope. I have no hope.
I am. I am not.


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