Let's Get Serious

GAD

Hey y’all. I’m sorry for the lack of posts on my end. I had midterms last week and now I’m finally on spring break so I have the time to write. The only thing I’ve been writing is about my anxiety in my journal. I want to explore this area and also share them. I apologize in advance for the lack of positivity, but I do hope that my poems are somewhat relatable.

i’m ready to die.
my body says: threat.
quicken the heartbeat.
pump the adrenaline.
heighten sensitivity.
heighten focus.
more adrenaline.
faster heartbeat.
logic says: you are literally sitting on your bathroom counter waiting on your face mask to dry.
this is not a life or death situation.
yeah well tell that to my sympathetic nervous system whose going into overdrive and won’t chill the fuck out.
rationale says: didn’t they say that face masks are essential to self-care?

face masks

i’m a shell.
i have emptied myself
out to give everyone what they’ve demanded
and none of those boys ever thought to refill what they took out.
they say: “tell me what you’re passionate about.”
they mean: “bare your soul and lay it out so I can examine it piece by piece inch by inch and sloppily attempt to remove myself from this messy make up of your soul.”
i say: “here” and “here” and “have some more.”
i mean: “am i good enough for you?” and “does this mean you’ll stay?” and “does this mean you’ll want me?”

                                 –vulnerability

have i not learned?
when will i learn?
when will enough be enough? or when will my enough be good enough instead of too much?
when will i be refilled?
when will i stop being mesmerized by words instead of actions?
when will i stop looking at who they could be instead of who they are now?
when i learn that not everyone deserves these pieces of me before its too late.

momma always said, “actions speak louder.”

i can’t reach it and i don’t even know what “it” is and if “it” will be worth it.
i only know that “it” feels like this itch i can’t scratch.
this scratch i can’t itch.
this feeling i can’t grasp, grab, touch, hold on to.
my attempts are met with:
empty
empty
empty
try again.

trying

i’m shaky.
all over.
in my soul, my hands, my arms, my god damn legs won’t stop twitching and jolting.
my heart is vibrating, creating a staccato, at a rate that would break monitors.
oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh ̶
deep breathes.
in through your nose out of your mouth.
no these aren’t deep enough.
breathe in and out.
don’t look at the welts forming on your arm.
breathe in.
don’t focus on your shaking muscles.
out.
don’t pay attention to the rising heat of your body temperature.
breathe in.
don’t ruminate on the amount of times it took you to spell “temperature.”
out.
don’t listen.
don’t listen.
don’t listen to “you’re a basket case. this is stupid.”
breathe breathe breathe.
you can do this.

in and out.

Thank you for reading. I promise next week I’ll be back with my regular schedule. I have a few really cool projects in the works that I’m excited to share.

x0-Heidi

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