People are fine with me having mental health issues.
'Oh, you poor thing.'
'I'm so sorry.'
'That must be so hard.'
'You are so brave.'
That's until I act out because of my mental health.
'I can't handle you.'
'Can you at least act like you want to be here.'
'Are we really that bad?'
'I don't care you need to do something.'
People are okay with some things;
The crying.
The venting emotions.
But they aren't okay with so much more;
The not having a point in life.
The talk of death.
The panic attacks.
The walking out of class.
The not being able to speak.
The losing patience.
The over analysing.
The demotivation.
The inability to complete conversations.
The way I can't describe my emotions.
However they'll say they're fine with it.
Hypothetically.
Then it happens.
And all hell breaks loose.
Because how dare I.
I can't control it.
Leave me alone.
Stop being so patronising.
Stop lying to me and yourselves.
What are you really okay with?
YOU ARE READING
Me Working Through It
PoetryJust a bunch of poems I write to help get through life. You can see my journey through anxiety, friendships, relationships, sexuality confusion, family nonsense and depression. You might relate. I love comments (including grammar corrections). I do...
