People

They come,

Always talking,                      never
Always running,                    stopping

Smiling together,                                    crying
Dancing in pairs,                                    alone

Watching movies,                                               standing
Eating meals,                                                      separated

They go.

Photo by Oscar Keys.

Day by Day

Waking up in the morning, thinking of only one thing. Trying to find a reason to get out of bed. Thinking, yea suicide that's a cool thing you could do, but you know it's not you, rather it's one small part of you which is dominant.

By the time you get out of the house, you already had your first panic attack, you have already suppressed the urge to scream at your toothbrush and at the same time merrily skip while making your coffee. It's all normal for you, yet you know if someone saw you, and just asked what was happening? You would not know how to answer that.

You get to university, in a merry mood, listened to some nice music and managed to clear your mind. However, that lecturer is droning on, and it's all wrong, all of it the way he is speaking, the way she is writing, the way that person is sitting down. I promise I am not insane, but these are things that one notice when they become hyper aware.

Controlling these mood swings, yea it's possible very easy in fact. It is simply understanding that this is just an irrational thought passing through your head. Yet, you are scared, constantly scared of letting a little tiny bit of it outside, because the moment you get too comfortable, the moment you allow yourself to become open just enough to show those around you.

YOU ARE LUCKY, if you just get a puzzled look. I have had people stop talking to me, suggest I go see help, or simply take medicine, you freak of nature. Well you want to know one thing, it's not easy, it's not easy keeping it all inside, it's not easy holding in your thoughts. Feeling that you cannot belong anywhere, lost and lonely in a crowd of friendly people. Putting on masks for people so they like you, only showing them what they want to see. This is where one person stops trusting others, this is where one person becomes scared of being who they are.

This is because who they are is scary to those around them. The closest friends, family to that person do not understand is that, it's hell a terrifying having someone else inside with you. It’s a sad and lonely world not being able to be who you feel that you need to be. Yes I understand sometimes it gets over the top, but a simple “hey calm down” is enough to tell me that yes this is getting too much. Let us take it down a notch.

I am not alone, I am that one crazy enough to not care about what people think. I am strong enough to stare you back in the face and tell you hell, you think i'm crazy, you're right. I am not normal, hence I am labeled as crazy, I am unusual so I get stigma.

I am struggling with depression, anxiety and mood swings . Yet I am not alone, I reach to others, I talk to others and I tell them of my struggles and they help me. Unfortunately, I am one of few. Where am I going with this, I am here to tell you how it feels to be inside this mind, a prison of its own rights. I am telling you, do not label someone crazy, talk to them. They just might need that feeling that they belong.

Myself.

I have this constant fear of slipping out of my skin, this fear of not being able to contain my consciousness inside my body. Yet with this fear, I also have this great desperate need to do everything and anything, to be who I am.

I have this state of mind, when I am in my, most panicked state, to be the person who those next to me want me to be. I cannot be myself, no matter how much I try, no matter how much I work for it. I have to be someone else, I have to be what makes those around me want me to be. Being able to define who I am is very hard.

I am a man dancing off the walls of a building, I am a writer, a poet, an activist, a leader, a public speaker, a scientist. Yet, what happens when I am entirely on my own. With nothing but my deepest fears, and my inner most thoughts.

I am terrified, I am scared of myself, of who I am. Why?

Why?

Because I am absolutely and utterly insane, I see myself doing everything that I could possibly be doing at one single point in time. I see myself exploding, and imploding, I think of what the past, present and future should, might or could be. Thinking is a luxury, yet it is also my torture, my prison yet my freedom.

Why?

Because almost every single time I opened up my insanity to others, they are terrified of me. They are terrified of who or what I am or could be. They do not accept me, they reject the identity of what I could be.

This is why I became the person that you want me to be, I am your lover, I am your best friend, I am your follower, I am your leader, I am your enemy, I am a friend, I am drunk, I am a philosopher, I am what you need me to be.

Yet.

I found poetry, I found prose, I found writing.

When I write, people do not find it terrifying, they do not find it scary, they find me interesting, attractive, sometimes even inspiring, perhaps it is so. Yet, I still cannot even start to scratch the surface, of what I am.

I rarely praise myself, I rarely put myself up on a pedestal because, that is indeed going against all I am striving to be. Yet this one time I am allowing a luxury of doing this and being, 'myself'