Some memories are buried deep inside where they cannot hurt me….
They are too heavy to carry.
That is until they become too overpowering;
they start to hunt my dreams.
Constantly reminding me of how I was not worthy of a life free of trauma and conflicts….
Leaving me in a trance, where all I want to do is disappear.
This is how I feel inside…
While on the outside I am pretending to be the same old me… The me you’ve seen whenever I am coping positively with my past history..
This is how I feel inside..
Battling to reach my peak in recovery…
Why are we ashamed to talk about the depressed?
As if you can go on to ignore my restlessness.
As if you can stay quiet and not validate
how, when I’m like this I’m simply not the same…