Being the last day of mental health awareness week, I am sharing a spoken word poem I performed at my first ever open mic 4 years ago. I was referred to see a psychotherapist prior to starting 6th Form back in 2013 because my thinking patterns severely impacted every single wrong or right doing I committed in everyday life. Overthinking dominated my reasoning, my perceptions about myself, my friends and the world around me. It negatively impacted my thoughts and tricked me into not doing things even when I wanted to. This poem is a very personal one, but I know it could resonate with other people going through something similar. Thankfully I do not feel like what is written down below – most of the time – because overthinking is a challenge I face daily. But I have been blessed with people who have gave me the courage and determination to overcome this. I am – and probably will always be – a work in progress, but the love and support of old and current friends, my family and my psychotherapist surely made this process easier. If you’re going through anything similar and wish to seek help, I am not talk to someone trustworthy and/or seek help! Whether you’re diagnosed or not diagnosed with a mental health disorder, we all have moments were we feel way below rock bottom, and we would need someone to help us dig ourselves out of the rubble. And I know it’s a hard step to go seek help but it’s so worth it – because you are worth it! I have left some links below for Maltese readers if they wish to seek further help! Happy Reading xx
People might assume that stopping over-thinking is just as easy
as pulling the fragile roots of a small flower from healthy soil.
But these thoughts are large thick deep roots which crawl as they toil through your head
branching out of earth from a stale heavy grounded mind.
They tie you and lock you down
whipping you stabbing you till you feel nothing, without feeling your own blood
escape from your veins, your true colours are now spilled out of your soul,
ending up with nothing but the dirty scum of your own pain taking over your numb heart.
Your lungs are filling up with the pressure of anxiety as it suffocates you so much you can’t even breathe fresh air because you feel choked up in guilt and resentment
The words stuck in your throat try their best to surface your tongue but your tongue feels so much pain it has lost how to explain these words you would die to say.
Your hands are nothing but bony sticks which long to be held by someone special
but that someone special will never arrive you say
you’re worthless you say
you’re way behind everyone else you say
you’re an ugly selfish brat you say
you’re hopeless you say
you can never do this you say
you’re always wrong you say
why am I doing this I tell myself
why can’t I stop these parasites from eating my dead functioning brain I tell myself
act upon it I tell myself
stop being a drama queen
stop being a baby
stop all this nonsense
but I can’t
As my eyes continue to deaden out of tears
I look at my reflection. All I see is nothing but the fears
of a bruised boy looking girl staring back at me, without knowing what I want in my life
without knowing what to do in order to survive this permanent trap.
yes I know that by not helping myself no one will
yes I know that by being scared about everything won’t solve this
that giving a damn about every stupid thing will destroy me eventually
and yes I know that by over-thinking about how to stop this over-thinking won’t help either.
But tell me how can you have a fraction of hope when you believe that you’re good for nothing
when you find it very hard to accept all the positive remarks that people give you and keep the bad ones instead –
when even the greatest person in the world can come up to you and tell you that you’re the most amazing beautiful human being the entire universe has ever witnessed – and yet the reflection you see is a joke so hilarious it is now dead of laughter.
So next time you pass by, don’t be surprised if I reject you
it’s not because I want you to leave in the first place
but I’m actually protecting you from the horrible mess that is me. Marilyn.
And I know you will try your best to cut through these roots so you could have a taste of who I am.
But I won’t let you because I know that you all you will be tasting is poisoned bitterness
running through these roots which bruised my own hands, stung my stoned eyes and embarrassed my weak heart.
And I feel so bad that I’d rather spend eternity living in this damned world on my own
than see you spend a day here, because I don’t want to see you try so hard to pass through these roots so that eventually you’ll get bruised yourself. I care too much for you to see you get hurt for someone like me.
I am not worth the suffering of anyone in this world, let alone your own pain.
I will not be happy and no one will gain if you do so
because no one can save me.
Not even I am able to.
At least: that’s what I think.
16th April, 2014
Links of available services in Malta
- http://www.kellimni.com – an 24 hour online support service for young people
- https://www.um.edu.mt/counselling – Counselling Services offered by the University of Malta for Students
- http://www.victimsupport.org.mt– an Online Service for Victims of Crime
- http://www.richmond.org.mt – an NGO providing community-based services for people experiencing any mental health issues
- Talking to someone you know you can trust is also another way to seek support if you’re too afraid to do so alone! I hope the above links can help someone xx