Too Late

Hey guys! Garrett here. Sorry for not posting anything awhile, school’s terrible and awesome at the same time. So, to make up for it, I will write two poems. Free verse, I think. Anyhow, just a fair warning, even though the poems are quite dark, let me assure you I am perfectly fine with good friends around me. I just like angsty fics or poems.

Enjoy!

 


 

Fallin’

Down, down, below

Into nothingness

As I feel these horrible things

Swimming around my mind

Is it just me,

Or am I falling from grace?

From greatness,

I have fallen into something  worthless.

People try to save me

But they can only do so much

As they try to reach for my hand

As I fall from my heaven into my hell.

The place where I deserve to be.

Tortured, for all eternity.

Much better than getting the love you didn’t deserve

Still, I think they will miss me, though

But then again, they can always move on.

Move on, have fun, and forget about me.

Isn’t that great?

As I come to meet my destiny, I hear voices.

Congratulating me, on the best decision I have ever made.

But amidst the victorious voices, I hear a small one

Mourning about how my family will ever react.

Now I’m doubting.

Was this really necessary?

Or was I too blind to see another solution?

It’s too late, anyway. I’ve hit the ground.

Intense pain circulates as I feel my bones crack.

Too much. Too much.

As I lose consciousness, I only hope he understands.


 

I was too late.

He jumped.

He wouldn’t listen to me.

That’s him, I guess. Reductive of his own worth.

How is his perception so distorted that he fails to see the good in him?

Right now, I can hear him telling me it’s fine. Like he always did.

How can he not see that this was not fine?

Is it because to say that you were fine and hide behind a mask

Is much easier than admitting you were not and showing your vulnerabilities?

How couldn’t he see that even if we’ll move on with our lives, he’ll always stay in our hearts, never to be forgotten?

Was it because I was too harsh on him? I’ll never know.

Now what do I do?

I’m not used to living a life without him forever.

I’m not even sure this life is worth living anymore.

I want to prove that I’m no better than he.

Even if he thinks I am.

Oh, the ambulance is here.

Will he survive?

‘Cause I ain’t pulling him off the plug.

He’s way too important for me to die.

I guess I’d better call his parents now.

 

 

 

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Before I go to sleep, Depression talks to me

This story is basically my take at depressed self-loathing Caleb. I wrote it to try and show how it feels like when depression hits me. Take note that this is only one way depression affects people. Sometimes, it can also mean feeling empty. Here it goes. Trigger warning: implied self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depressing thoughts. Explicit.

Caleb just wanted to sleep and escape into nothingness.

Right now, it’s 12:20 a.m. He couldn’t sleep, and voices kept popping up in his head, which are quite abusive to him. He knows it was just one voice, since it always yells bad things about him. it just has the ability to morph into voices of other people. Mostly, it’s his voice, but it changes to others as well.

“Worthless. Liar. Skinny, as they all say, or fat, as you see? Hahaha, you can’t seem to agree with yourself of who you are, can you?”, whispers the voice in his head. He shudders.

“Such a piece of shit. I still wonder how on Earth Leo is still friends with you. After all, isn’t he right about the fact that you are, let’s list it down, rude, anorexic, depressed, suicidal, and, well, it’s too long to mention.”, the voice continued, snickering.

“Didn’t it feel so good when you dragged something sharp across your forearm and see the scratch? Why couldn’t you do it again? Oh wait, you’ll hurt everyone with what you do to yourself. , it seems as if it’s the only thing you can do: hurt everyone, hmm?”

Caleb was crying silently. He was thankful all his other roommates were asleep. The voice’s right, how could he still keep on living? Why was he still eating the food other poor hungry people need more than him? He tried to read a Johnlock fanfic where John comforts Sherlock during one of Sherlock’s depressive episodes. To him, reading fanfics about characters being helped mentally and emotionally by other characters comforts him. He gets the feeling of comfort that he isn’t alone. That others have the same problem as him.

“Oh how sweet. Sherlock at least has John to remind him he’s worthy of life. Don’t you wish Leo would be able to do the same to you?” the voice mocks. “To be the one who you could cry on his shoulder and be the one to hug you? Oh, in your dreams kid. You know he hates to touch an evil, twisted anomaly like you. Plus, why would he even remind you that?”

Caleb decided to have a conversation with the voice.

“Hello depression.”

“Hello Caleb.”

“Why are you still here?”

“I don’t know, you ask me, bitch.”

“Fine. I wish you were gone.”

“Well duh. Everyone’s asking you to do your best to make me go away. They don’t understand, though.”

“I know. It’s so hard for people to understand how I feel.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m the one who understands you a lot. I can sympathise with all the pain you have inside.”

“Funny, how you say it like you are not the one who causes it.”

“Ever heard of the term ‘the ugly truth’, bitch?”, the voice asked sarcastically. “When you let it all out, I make sure you do what you think you deserve.”

“Why do you convince me that killing myself is the only way out?”

“Caleb, when you die, this pain you feel inside you will go away. You will never make anyone mad at you for doing bad stuff. Plus, you deserve this.”

“But, I’ll end up hurting people I love.”

“They’ll understand as they move on with their lives. They can sell your stuff for money. Your parents save money in the long term. Right? You can give your iPhone to Leo. He’ll have more fun with you phone than with you. Plus, why would they need you anyway?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, there are people who love me a lot, even if I don’t deserve it, so I should probably do them a favour and stay alive.”

“Fine, be that way. Just so you know, I’m always ready to help you achieve death if you think otherwise.”

“Should I even believe you? All those times I tried your suggestions, I failed, and you laughed at me told me I was too weak to do what had to be done.”

“Well, they are good ones. You’re just too weak to follow through.”

“Oh well. Good night.”

“Good night, Caleb. Enjoy your dreams of suicide.”

Depression and ADHD

Hey guys. Sorry if I haven’t updated my blog for some time, what with PSHS being so demanding with requirements. I’ve been diagnosed with depression, and it isn’t a walk in the park, but i think I’m getting a bit better. It’s been vicious, and my friends and my parents know that too well. Self-harm, purging, crying spells, and, well, you get the idea. I was (or maybe I still am?) self-destructive. I’ve gotten over the self-harm, and purging, but my crying spells and suicidal thoughts come often still.

Being a student diagnosed with ADHD and depression is twice as hard as being a normal student. It takes a lot of effort to start on requirements, and finish them, as you will not see the point in finishing it because you will still fail. You don’t really care about your personal appearance. Your friends may also be annoyed with your behaviour, and call you “emo”. (Yes, I’ve been called that by my best friend). You feel ashamed for all the negative thoughts in your mind because they’re like a painful truth, even if it doesn’t seem like it to others. (“Oh Garrett, why are you still entertaining these thoughts?”, said one dormer). You absolutely cannot stand noise and need to be in a quiet place, which will never be granted because that damn disruptive classmate of yours just won’t shut up. You listen to emotional music every time you need a pick-me-up, which means belting out “Bring Me To Life” in the bathroom. Negative criticism about you hurts more than it should.

There are nights where you feel the need to cry into your pillow. Every time you take your anti-depressants, you feel numb. You don’t get excited over stuff that you love to do. Your poker face becomes a mask; it hides your sadness. Your grades are slowly dropping, yet you can’t find the will to even care about them anymore. Sometimes, you wonder if you have bipolar disorder because sometimes, your ADHD makes you hyperactive and make you look like you’re bouncing off the walls, but then depression strikes, and you suddenly become lethargic and quiet.This is how it feels like to be depressed and have ADHD as a student.

I’ve been diagnosed with it in the late 2015, and so far, my coping method is sleeping. The first one was cutting, then crying. I’ve also had body image issues.

My best friend, Andrew Mallari, was my rock. He supported me during the good times, and the bad times. He also got mad at me sometimes, yes, but he always apologized because he felt the consequences (which was me having another crying spell in the bathroom, and suicidal thoughts for being a bad friend). During the times I didn’t eat lunch, he nagged me to eat lunch. Now, he keeps waking me up every time I sleep in school.

It isn’t anyone’s fault for my depression. I have to remind myself that over and over. Sometimes, though, I fantasize about everyone rejoicing over my death. I know it’s wrong, and that no one will ever be happy if I killed myself, but I get blinded by twisted fantasies of me jumping over the bridge, shooting myself with a revolver, drowning, then it all disappears and I’m back to normal. That was how it usually happened.

I always get reminded by people though how much they mean to me. One time, I chatted with Andrew a way to die without hurting anyone and he said that wouldn’t work. He also said he would demand Hades to let me go. Mom always reminds me of how much I mean to her.

Everyday, I’m one day closer to dying. Sometimes, I use that knowledge to wait for that day, other days, it’s an encouragement to get up and do something. I just hope I use it more often as the latter.