Deep Within My Mind's Labyrinth

It felt natural to be writing like this.

Words flowing from my pencil onto the blank white paper.

Writing was always easy for me growing up.

No one realizes how much it has helped me.

How simply expressing yourself has eased your depression, or anxiety.

Deep within my mind was a labyrinth of confusion, anger, and sorrow.

Three monsters dwelled within it: Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD.

 

Depression skulked about searching for intruders.

It was a chasm of emptiness searching for victims to make it “whole”.

It would scream self destructing thoughts towards it's victims.

Kill yourself. Worthless. Piece of shit. Little Bitch. Can't you do anything right?

Tuning out the beast was hard to do.

As I traveled further, so did depression. It stalked me trying to slowly destroy me.

It wanted full control over me. It wanted to be “whole”.

Endless nights I would cry myself to sleep.

I'd always feel my tears cascading down from my eyes like rain drops.

Every night I'd count how many would fall out.

One, two, three,

I wrote my first poem, a song, out of depression.

I felt better. I heard the beast cry in agony as it retreated.

I know it will come back for me.

It always does.

 

 

Anxiety was a mischievous imp.

It pulled pranks making you feel something was wrong.

Your heart would begin to race.

Your head would ache.

Your chest would hurt if he was strong enough.

Sweat would come leaking out of the palms of your hands.

You can only ward away the imp by relaxing.

I wrote a poem on the labyrinth walls, feeling anxiety backing away from me.

It ran off cackling, crying, “I'll always be here! I'll get you when you least expect it!”

The imp was right. I feel him behind sometimes and turn to find no one there.

Other times he'd sneak attack aiming for my chest.

I know the imp will come back for me.

It always does.

 

PTSD is a special gorgon with two heads.

The snakes glare at you, paralyzing you with fear.

It's specialty is nightmares and memories.

It stares into your soul.

It brings out trauma you can't forget.

You feel your heart race fast.

You want to run, but your stuck.

It replays the memories again and again.

Forever on a loop trauma continues to haunt you.

Abuse and Stalking are his main projections at me.

It smiles enjoying the suffering it's bringing.

I write a small poem.

The gorgon's snakes stop using their magic.

It flees crying out “I'll never leave you! I'll always come back!”

I know the gorgon shall appear again.

It always does.

 

Outside the labyrinth there is no monsters.

Your poetry kept them at bay.

Your way of expression made them flee.

I shall continue to fight them.

For the labyrinth is mine and I'm it's guardian.

I will come back.

I always do.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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