A therapist told one of my friends that his depression
was synonymous with teenage angst
that he should just learn how to deal with it
because everybody else his age does
I am seething because he pays to hear this bullshit
pays to hear that he is too weak to conceal it
that he doesn’t know how to ‘cope’ like the rest of us
pays to be told that his problems are too small
too typical to be important.
How are we going to learn how to tackle mental illness
when even our doctors are telling us that we should
learn how to grow thicker skin
don’t you know that the demons are already inside
our head, thicker skin just means getting better
at keeping them in, at hiding them, at letting
them grow without us being an inconvenience
to the rest of the world’s minds which are at ease.
How do we deal with it when we our literally
placing our lives on the line you are asking us
to take a leap to follow up on that risk of plunging
head first into maybe recovery and maybe suicide
this isn’t learning how to ride a bike
there is no push and hope you stay steady
it’s more like taking steps down a tightrope
every step is an invitation to death–
My best friend is rotting from the inside out
her body is a cemetery, dreams buried underneath
layers of anxiety, happiness clouded over by
medication and therapy
I don’t know if she’ll make it out alive
and that is so scary to admit
because I was there when she told me
that she loved her life
and I was there when she told me
she wanted to die
and she was the same person except
there was depression in her mind
and the doctors
tell her that she’s got to get over it.
I have never seen death so up close
its name sounds all too familiar in my mouth
its faces are all too friendly
I walk among people who have already gone
because as far as they’ve been told
the only cure to their miseries
exists in getting over an imaginary illness
they’ve been erased from clipboards
turned into numbers
first as patients
then as a death count
and the doctors just keep on saying
that they have to deal with it
deal with it
and carry their own lives
to the graves.
i’m no therapist but at least I know more than to tell them to get over it /// inktrails (via thesocietyofpoets)
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He’s looking straight into my soul with those handsome blue eyes
dexter is ruining my life
Loki likes to keep my towel warm.
i do not understand the big obsession with pop punk
realfriendly
i cant hear you over how much i hate my town
aboveandbeyondquotes
teenagehipst3r
teenagehipst3r

