Death

Laying prostrate almost comatose in my bed dreaming of death
Sick and twisted thought are ruminating in my mind
I cant move from the pain of this depression i want death i want to be nothing
I am already dead as the emotion has been vanquished from my body as this dead sensation permeates my entire being

Dreaming of all the myriad of ways of dying
Dreaming of dying in my sleep to never awaken to a cold world that has forsaken me
I have nothing no love no real family friends never call anymore
All i have is the fantasy of not existing

I lay horizontal for hours with a body burdened with sadness musing about the concept of death to not exist
To be a dream a distant fading memory to be pure nothingness to be dust
I want death there’s no reason to carry on existing living so listlessly trudging through life in endless cycles of abject despair
In my darkest dreams i take the sweet pill of suicide and get taken away by a dark shadowy masked figure he takes me away from the land of the living into the serenity the nirvana of death

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Concealing My Disorder

I exist in this mask this persona that portrays a veneer of sanity
Behind the mask lurks a inner world of darkness with a pernicious social anxiety and crippling depression that i conceal from all of humanity
I go out to the world interact with friends smiling laughing concealing my pain never frowning never disclosing my acute social anxiety

I have this dread this constant fear of being found out
Of anybody discovering my fractured psyche discovering my anxiety
Hence I have constructed elaborate excuses when i suffer from extreme bouts of suicidal depression when I’m able to be a participator in life
To disguise my anxiety i have told friends that i am afflicted with asthma that’s why on occasion i have bouts of hyperventilating breathing when in reality I’m enduring a panic attack

Many times though i eschew public gatherings making up flimsy excuses for why i cant attend nights out
The depression is a lot easier to hide you can smile put on this facade of serenity to mask the inner torment lurking in the recesses of my mind
Anxiety is getting harder to hide with existing in public becoming more acutely onerous
Still i smile laugh conceal my extreme nervousness never letting the mask slip away I’m terrified of anybody discovering the shame of my disorder

He Shuddered When He Glimpsed My Face

I entered the door to my block of flats
A stranger a neighbour glimpsed my hideous visage and shuddered with horror
As I entered the door he was leaving and I perceived from his repulsed reaction to my deformed face
He looked at me with terror with derision

I was so profoundly embarrassed my our fleeting interaction
Running up the stairs to my flat entrance
Wanting to be far away from the vilifying stares of strangers
I entered the safety of my secluded flat and felt a tumult of self loathing pulsate in my body

The hell of being me living in this ugly unsightly body
Having a face deformed and malformed devoid of any beauty
Its why I’m alone living without love or sex
Its why a alluring stranger saw my face and felt a consternation just glimpsing my visage for a few seconds

For hours after this awkward encounter I fell into a deep depression
To assuage my inner torment i consumed a copious amount of alcohol to numb the pangs of sadness ruminating in my fractured soul
I then proceeded to cut my arms with a razor blade to feel something
This masochistic injurious act help to imbue me with some humanity after that brief agonising encounter had engendered in me a feeling of worthlessness that i was a grotesque freak discarded by society

Silent Hurt

I’m screaming nobody hears my forlorn cries for help
I bellow these laments of hurt that are lost in my introverted consciousness
The hurt the goddamn hurt the pain of being alive
Its inside of this interminable unexpressed suffering

Rather than express divulge my suffering i repress I retreat
I lacerate my arms in a masochistic act to feel my pain
I eschew talking to a therapist or seeking medication for my illness
The hurt festers and metastasises in me till the point when suicide seems more preferable than stying alive

On the outside my friends my family have no idea I’m existing with a mental illness
I perpetuate a facade a mask
As i project a image of serenity
They are entirely unaware of my anxiety my depression that crippling silent hurt of being me

I scream i am desperate to convey my pain to anybody
I fantasise about getting hug getting a acknowledgment from my pain
I dream of eruditely articulating my depression to a close friend and having streams of tears flowing down my face and feeling the euphoria of expressing the pain

Instead i repress i hide the pain
I carry on this facade to protect myself
I am alone in my hurt in my wounded fragile soul
I am this vulnerable broken women longing for anybody to hear my silent screams of emotional anguish

Terminal Depression

Can’t shake this pain
It makes my bones ache with sadness
I can barely walk i can barely function its so excruciating to live with
This depression this pain is terminal its like having a cancer infecting you’re entire body

One day i will awake and be unable to carry on living this way
One day i will end my life the pain of being me will grow so severe suicide will be the only plausible path to banish this pain
This day is coming soon the anxiety the loneliness the weight of this severe depression is slowly crushing my fragile soul
I cut myself in masochistic act to feel my pain i write poetry as forlorn acts of self expression all to no avail the pain the cancer only metastasises in my mental ill psyche

Oh lord rid me of the suffocating existential malaise of being me
I want to expunge the depression to be normal to be happy to fall in love
I want to liberated from the chains of my depression i want to be glad to be alive
I will never have these fantastical illusions i am doomed to be tortured by this untreated terminal depression until one day i will have to end my life to end the psychological torture of being me

An Evening Of Fear And Loathing Part 1

Tonight’s the night when i will force myself to overcome my fears my crippling social anxiety and go on my first date in nearly 4 years. It will be my first official date as a adult women and I’m overcome with terror and excitement at the thought on embarking on a date with a man I’ve only interacted with on tinder. My previous dates were when i was a precocious adolescent who wasn’t inflicted with a crippling social anxiety but was a shy awkward teenager. I can recall going to the cinema or bowling with teenage crushes but nothing really happened on these innocent teenage dates.

Today though at the tender age of 19 i am going on my first date in nearly 4 years. I have spent the past years never having the gumption to ask men whom I’m sexually armoured with on a date. I have lost my virginity in a handful of drunken one night stands in meaningless promiscuous sexual encounters. Now i want something real to cultivate a emotional connection with another soul that’s why i finally taken the plunge and going out facing my fears and actually going on a date.

The date is tonight i have intercommunicated with this individual who calls himself Kyle who is 21 years old. I looked at the entire gamut of his tinder and instagram photos I am enticed by his physical appearance. He wasn’t trying to hard there is no shirtless selfies no thirst trap cringe inducing photographs but casually confident images that projected to me a self assured confidence and unusual degree of earnestness. In our multitude of messaging conversations over the preceding months i built up an idea of how this man is what is personality is. He isn’t a stereotypical tinder egomaniac machismo man he appears to be a amicable kind considerate young man.

When I first set my tinder profile and uploaded a variety of my finest photographs that projected a positive image of myself to prospective male suitors i was filled with apprehension and enormous anxiety. Still the anxiety remains but i feel I have made enormous strides in overcoming my social phobia. Being on tinder has given me these moments of enormous validation of myself where men are actually attracted to me. I’ve had a horrible negative opinion on myself seeing myself as a hideously deformed freak who no man in their right man would find alluring. As well as suffering from a pernicious social anxiety i also suffer since i was a teenager from body dysmorphia. This means I have a severely altered perception of my physical attractiveness than other humans. I eschew most normal social functions never am able to peer at myself in the mirror because of how horrified i am at the ghastly image that appears in the mirror. The body dysmorphia is why I remain perennially single alone without love without sex. The thought of physical or emotional intimacy is terrifying to me to be that vulnerable with another person especially a person you have profound feelings for.

In spite of the paralysing social anxiety the self loathing the neurotic fears that circulate in my psyche I prepare myself for this date with Kyle. Kyle is a 21 year old training to be a mental health counsellor he lives within the local area of Cambridge a town where i am studying and residing. He live within 10 miles of each other so meeting up for a rendezvous is easy as he live in close proximity to each other. After many months of talking sharing photographs casual flirting talking profusely online about our interests we have finally set a date for our first physical in the flesh meeting. Tonight we will meet up at the local Italian restaurant within the Cambridge town centre. It’s a modest Italian restaurant that’s well within our price range. I a struggling student living on a meagre budget supplemented by my part time job at a local bookshop can ill afford to fork out on a lavish night out in a prestigious restaurant. Hence he agreed to meet up in this reasonable but charming Italian restaurant called Pinocchios for a night of engaging flirtatious conversation complemented with liberal quantities of alcohol.

Its 6 o’clock in the evening i am diligently getting ready for a night of possibilities. The anxiety is off the scales i can hardly breathe i am at risk of suffering another traumatic harrowing panic attack. The idea of making myself beautiful of going out into the cruel world with judgemental people with my slender body on show and having to appear interesting and charismatic to a prospective lover is filling my heart with terror with disquiet. The fear at what could transpire on this night the humiliation the possibility of a anxiety attack in public is constant. I can’t rid myself of the fear the loathing that is pulsating in my neurotic consciousness as I soak my homely disfigured body in the bath. I have meticulously prepared the appropriate attire that i will clothe my body in. I purchased several week ago a sender low cut black maxi dress which i purchased in the unlikely scenario of me going out on a date. Tonight I will wear this alluring beguiling dress that hopefully will convince Kyle that i am a beautiful women. Hopefully he will look past all my glaring physical imperfections and see this beguiling dress.

I remove my body out of the wet hot steaming bath now i am shaking with nerves barely able to walk or hold by electric toothbrush from the anxiety that’s radiating round my body. I frantically brush my teeth trying assiduously to keep my toothbrush steady in my mouth. I grimace with horror as I glimpse my gnarled visage in the bathroom mirror. This pallid ghostlike person that is looking at me fills me with loathing and disgust. I think to myself how is this person going to convince a kind interesting young man to fall in love with her. I disappear from the bathroom feeling refreshed and revitalised washing away all that filth and sickness from my body. Now i can hide myself in the fortress of my room wherein i can plaster my face in my feminine war paint in order to conceal to obscure my flaws my cracks. Hopefully with enough war paint i can by some miracle appear beautiful to Kyle.

Freak

The voices in my head as i gaze at my hideous visage in the mirror
Freak freak ugly monster you hideous unlovable cunt
These internal voices reverberate in my fractured psyche
They grow more vociferous as i interact with the general public

I’m a unlovable freak a social leper
Im cursed with this ugly exterior that is all people see
I see in their derisive glances people look down on me
They look at me with utter contempt with revulsion

I’m a subhuman creature to them and myself
A gollum creature who all twisted and gnarled on the outside and inside
My repulsive physical appearance is a reflection of my damaged deformed soul
There’s no beauty no life inside of me only self loathing and a deep perennial sadness that never subsides or abates

I imagine in my mind what people think of me
I theorise they call me ugly under their breathe that they shudder and recoil in horror as they glimpse my face
I am a freak a monster that no man will ever find attractive or alluring
I will be ignored become a invisible tortured soul who is shunned by society who is forced to exist in the wilderness in the desert never feeling love or physical gratification only constant rejection