Mental Illness Poems - Page 3

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41. Another Trigger

Anxiety can be debilitating and is on the rise. This poem is dedicated to my daughter. Her struggle is real but thankfully she is getting better.
- By Jim D. Prime
- Published by Family Friend Poems December 2020 with permission of the Author.
Living With Anxiety

A storm is coming, my chest is tightening and it's hard to breathe.
Like a giant noose, life is smothering me.
I would do anything to not feel this pain.
Make it stop, I want to laugh again.

A storm is coming, my chest is tightening and it's hard to breathe.
Like a giant noose, life is smothering me.
I would do anything to not feel this pain.
Make it stop, I want to laugh again.

The thought of being scared is so frightening.
Another trigger, it's happening again; is everyone watching?
Everything matters, nothing matters, my life will be ruined again.
Paralyzed, afraid to move, the walls are closing in.

Everyone has disappeared, they think I don't care.
Truth is I don't want to be alone; I am so scared.
Please be patient, I know I can be withdrawn.
I need all of you more than ever; I'm not really gone.

Grab my hand, I can feel the ground; please don't let go.
Having you with me helps more than you will ever know.
Let me talk, let me be silent, listen either way.
Thank you for understanding; I think I can make it another day
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42. Living With OCD

I lived with depression and OCD for a few years, and during that time I was suicidal. Now I'm free from it. It still lives in me, but it's not in control of me. I thought I'd write a poem for people to understand just a little bit of how OCD works on the mind.
- By GeorgeH4rt
- Published by Family Friend Poems June 2018 with permission of the Author.
O.C.D., those evil eyes that stare at me,
That bully in my head,
Obsession, obsession, obsession,
Is all that can be said.

O.C.D., those evil eyes that stare at me,
That bully in my head,
Obsession, obsession, obsession,
Is all that can be said.

I try to block, and I try to fight.
All hours I wish me dead.
The only peace I find throughout the night
Is when I'm in my bed.

Asleep, no oppression,
But when I wake, all I get is...
Obsession, obsession, obsession.
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43. Dear Mom

This poem is coming right from the heart. As a child, my mother had bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, which impacted my siblings and my life. There was constant upheaval and unstable lifestyles. I had to deal with being homeless, taking care of my 4 younger siblings, and moving around a lot (7 schools in 5 years). At the age of 13 my mom left us and forgot about her kids completely, leaving us to pick up the pieces.
- By Jonah
- Published by Family Friend Poems February 2017 with permission of the Author.
Poem About A Mentally Ill Mother Who Abandons Her Children

Dear Mom,
Have you forgotten?

Sitting, waiting, hoping

Dear Mom,
Have you forgotten?

Sitting, waiting, hoping

Where did you go, Mom?
Did I do something wrong?

Lost, lonely, sad

Are you really gone, Mom?
I waited...
I'm with my grandparents now, Mom.
I have a room now.
Are you there, Mom?
Can you hear me?

Tired, crushed, defeated

Started school again.
It's my birthday, Mom!
It's okay, I don't need a birthday card.

Broken, lacking, sorrowful

Broke an arm, Mom.
Got a school solo.
Are you happy?

Undefined, sinking, heartbroken

Went to prom, Mom.
Had my first kiss!
Do you miss us, Mom?

Warped, torn, tangled

You're really gone now.
Why?
I'm moving on now, Mom.
I miss you.
Goodbye.

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44. 2 Hours

Anxiety is a demon most can't see. Every time I left the house I would have constant panic attacks until I returned. This poem is about the first two hours of a day. I refer to Anxiety as a demon because they are similar in many ways. It's impossible to understand the feeling of your own mind turning on you until it happens. Medication can cure symptoms or create them. My Agoraphobia was the result of a particular combination of medications. When I was taken off one, my symptoms went away.
- By Brian E Pardee
- Published by Family Friend Poems November 2017 with permission of the Author.
Agoraphobia, Anxiety And Panic Attacks

Anxiety rips me out of my sleep, a shock to my system like a bucket of ice water.
I open my eyes to see a demon hovering near the ceiling; fighting it will lead to my slaughter.

These demons cover the Earth like the oxygen we can't see.

Anxiety rips me out of my sleep, a shock to my system like a bucket of ice water.
I open my eyes to see a demon hovering near the ceiling; fighting it will lead to my slaughter.

These demons cover the Earth like the oxygen we can't see.
One look into their eyes assures you several hours of misery.

I pull off my covers and step to the warm floor.
My teeth begin to chatter, sensitive to an elusive vibration that I've felt before.

Every muscle contracts; I notice the blinds are closed, yet a small beam of light still gets in.
They spy on us through the sunlight; it's hard to fight a battle that you know you can't win.

I quickly stumble to the kitchen to take my medication, hoping today's the day it starts working.
Tunnel vision increases the terror, knowing that the beast is somewhere close lurking.

I eat the fastest meal that I am able to find,
Then brush my teeth twice, because I always throw up after the first time.

I quickly get dressed; with my head down I walk toward the car.
Hyper-vigilant to something you cannot see, aware of the fact that I must appear to act bizarre.

Each day is like reliving a bleak dream, every 24 hours repeating exactly the same.
When the tension becomes too great I'm forced to distract myself with a different form of pain.

I get into my vehicle, driving to my monthly psychiatric appointment as fast as I can go.
The night before was a bad one; I took a hammer to the side my face to make the pain show

I walked into the building, trying to cover the side of my face that was black and blue.
I quickly sat down, noticing some of other patients could see the demons too.

Some people think we are terrified of other people, but that simply isn't true.
I'm terrified of the demon that is standing between me and you.

It only took a few months before this doctor stopped pretending to care.
It's always the same questions, just wanting my new medication so I could get the hell out of there,

So I can race home, splash some water on my face and take a deep breath,
Because that was only two hours and there's still twenty two left.
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45. The Fire

I cope with my anxiety and depression by writing. Enjoy.
- By Sarah Gray
- Published by Family Friend Poems February 2019 with permission of the Author.
Poem About Anxiety

The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.

The fire that rages
from within my rib cage is
weakening the bones
that should make me strong.
The feeling creeps for every dark place.
It fills up my head; it's invading my space.
It's melting me from inside; I think I'm burning up.
I can't breathe or move or talk. I'm hopelessly stuck.
As people pass by, they give no second glance.
I cry out for help; this is my chance.
The fire claws at my throat; it's burning my tongue.
I think it's too late for help; the damage is done.
I down some water, which brings calmness and peace.
The fire has settled for a minute, at least.
Eventually it's burning as hot as before.
The fire rages back up from my very core.
The fire inside is one you can't see.
The fire inside, it's my anxiety.
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46. Exhale Anxiety

Take a deep breath and exhale all that anxiety. I wrote the poem I needed to hear. My anxiety is still high. I’m going to write my way out. I hope this helps someone else dealing with it. Sending you peace and calm.
- By Raquel Franco
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2021 with permission of the Author.
Embracing Calmness: A Poem For Anxiety Relief And Serenity

I send anxiety
a cease and desist letter.
I close her mouth.
Unbind her gnawing disquiet,

I send anxiety
a cease and desist letter.
I close her mouth.
Unbind her gnawing disquiet,
slow my train track heart.
I manifest settle,
a steady river in my veins.
I proclaim calm,
a relentless hymn on my tongue.
I end the riot in my chest
and exhale.
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47. I'll Fight For Her

This poem was inspired by my girlfriend. She has a disorder called borderline personality disorder, and sometimes seeing eye to eye can be hard, but no one will ever see her the way I do.
- By Joshua J. Siferd
- Published by Family Friend Poems February 2018 with permission of the Author.
Never Giving Up On Love

She can be a handful.
Yes, this is true.
But you won't look at her
In the ways that I do.

She can be a handful.
Yes, this is true.
But you won't look at her
In the ways that I do.

You couldn't comprehend
What goes through her mind.
You wouldn't understand
The look in her eyes.

From the fits of rage
To the unconditional love.
There isn't a day
Where I'd change any of the above.

Countless nights
I've stayed awake,
Wondering if it's right
Or if I'm about to break.

But in the end,
I know for sure.
No one else in this world
Would try to understand her.

Nights can be bright.
Days can be dark.
But even after every fight,
When it gets hard,
I'll never lose sight
Of what's carved in my heart.
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48. The Room Of My Life

Anne Sexton is a famous poet known for writing about challenging topics, often expressing despair in her work. In the poem "Room of Life," she reveals the troubled life she led through vivid imagery, including objects that seem to take on a life of their own. Sexton sees each object in her room as a reflection of her own life, including the books, the typewriter, the phone, and even the windows. She feeds both the world outside and her own inner world, but she struggles to find meaning in her existence.

Famous Poem
- By Anne Sexton
Here,
in the room of my life
the objects keep changing.
Ashtrays to cry into,

Here,
in the room of my life
the objects keep changing.
Ashtrays to cry into,
the suffering brother of the wood walls,
the forty-eight keys of the typewriter
each an eyeball that is never shut,
the books, each a contestant in a beauty contest,
the black chair, a dog coffin made of Naugahyde,
the sockets on the wall
waiting like a cave of bees,
the gold rug
a conversation of heels and toes,
the fireplace
a knife waiting for someone to pick it up,
the sofa, exhausted with the exertion of a whore,
the phone
two flowers taking root in its crotch,
the doors
opening and closing like sea clams,
the lights
poking at me,
lighting up both the soil and the laugh.
The windows,
the starving windows
that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
Each day I feed the world out there
although birds explode
right and left.
I feed the world in here too,
offering the desk puppy biscuits.
However, nothing is just what it seems to be.
My objects dream and wear new costumes,
compelled to, it seems, by all the words in my hands
and the sea that bangs in my throat.
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49. My Ritual

I have dissociative identity disorder. I "lose time," not knowing where I went or what I was doing there. My husband continually worries what might happen to me, what I may do to myself, and if I will be successful next time I try to take my life?
I can never sleep for long, I have horrific nightmares of the abuse I suffered as a child and adult. So instead of sleeping, I sit and watch and listen, trying to feel safe.
- By Donna Jozwiak
- Published by Family Friend Poems June 2011 with permission of the Author.
Poem About Dissociative Identity Disorder

In the early hours,
As most should be sleeping,
I sit in our bedroom window and perform a ritual.
Smoking a cigarette, wrapped tightly in a blanket,

In the early hours,
As most should be sleeping,
I sit in our bedroom window and perform a ritual.
Smoking a cigarette, wrapped tightly in a blanket,
I watch.
I watch you toss and turn, breathing heavily, in and out.
I imagine your dreams, your tremors.
I'm careful not to wake you.
Sometimes I walk over to you and touch your hair,
And pray that it is not me that keeps you here in this prison.
The anxiousness shows, reflected even as you sleep,
Worries too heavy for you to even confess to me.
You sleep on, albeit fitfully,
Not aware of my nightly ritual of watching you.
Careful not to disturb...
While you try with all your subconscious might,
To dream away losing me,
To dream away the certainty of my death.
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50. I Don't Know

I was recently diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and it has been quite a struggle. I'm struggling to identify and express the intense emotions I feel. Sometimes it's frustrating because I don't know my triggers. Not only do I suffer from BPD, but I also struggle with depression and anxiety. It's very lonely, so I turn to writing as my sense of comfort.
- By Kayla L. Jenkins
- Published by Family Friend Poems September 2020 with permission of the Author.
Struggling To Express Intense Feelings

I don't know how to tell you I'm afraid without feeling weak.
I don't know how to tell you I'm hurting and how I wish this pain would cease.
I don't know how to tell you I'm lonely without feeling incomplete.
I don't know how to tell you I'm tired and how I wish this burden would decrease.

I don't know how to tell you I'm afraid without feeling weak.
I don't know how to tell you I'm hurting and how I wish this pain would cease.
I don't know how to tell you I'm lonely without feeling incomplete.
I don't know how to tell you I'm tired and how I wish this burden would decrease.

I don't know how to tell you I'm angry without feeling guilty.
I don't know how to tell you I'm exhausted and how I wish to find some release.
I don't know how to tell you I'm confused without feeling lost.
I don't know how to tell you I'm devastated and how I wish to find inner peace.

I don't know how to tell you I'm breaking without feeling broken.
I don't know how to tell you I'm sinking and how I wish this storm would cease.
I don't know how to tell you how all these emotions overtake me.
I just pray you hear the words I attempt to speak.
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51. Finding Peace

I am a veteran of the Iraq war. I received the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. I was diagnosed with PTSD after my return and have been struggling with it every sense. I wrote this just to try and make people understand.
- By John Baumgartner
- Published by Family Friend Poems October 2016 with permission of the Author.
The Effects Of PTSD

Turmoil covers my eyes and my heart.
It never leaves me in day or dark.
Combat changed me to this way.
Hate and death seem to be with me to stay.

Turmoil covers my eyes and my heart.
It never leaves me in day or dark.
Combat changed me to this way.
Hate and death seem to be with me to stay.
I yearn for peace for just a little while
To free my soul from further trial.
The faces of death haunt my dreams.
I pray for peace from all these things.
God, take me home if it is the only way.
Please give peace for just a day.
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52. Voices

I know a lot of people deal with anorexia and they hear that little voice called Ana in their head, telling them what to eat, when to purge, counts the calories for you, but for me Ana has becomes more than that, she tells me what to do, what to feel, how to act, what to eat, she reminds me that I am a mess because I know she is right, I do deserve it, sometimes I hate her and I just want her out of my head, but at the end I need her more than ever
- By Joanna
- Published by Family Friend Poems July 2012 with permission of the Author.
Poem About Anorexia

Flashbacks run through my mind
My hands find their way to my hair
They grab, pull, scratch
"STOP IT!" I try to scream

Flashbacks run through my mind
My hands find their way to my hair
They grab, pull, scratch
"STOP IT!" I try to scream
The flashbacks keep coming
The razor
The blood
The madness...
"You deserve it"
I know
"I have to remind you, that you are a mess"
I know, I'm sorry
"Smile, do not let them see you broken"
I smile, I know you are right Ana
You control my life
Not only you control what I eat, but what I do, what I feel
"You are worthless"
I feel worthless
"Purge those calories you eat, you do not need more food in that fat body"
I purge, loving and hating the sensation
I try to sleep, but the flashbacks would not let me
Leave me alone!
Please...
"No, you deserve all of this"
I HATE YOU, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
"Never you need me, you want me, you love me"
I do, I know
I go to bed and prepare myself for my same routine for tomorrow
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53. Hello, I Love You, Goodbye

I have always struggled with mental illness. Pretty much everyone struggles with something. I think that everyone has missing pieces and gaps that need to be filled. My mental illness affects my daily life and religious beliefs. If your focus isn't on the person and their well-being, then what are you trying to fix? Everyone has worth because they are a person, not because of anything they say or do, especially not something out of their control that they are born with or into.
- By Taylor Jones
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 1, 2024 with permission of the Author.
Broken People Are Still People

hello, I love you, goodbye.
Sometimes I wonder why I try.

most days seem the same;

hello, I love you, goodbye.
Sometimes I wonder why I try.

most days seem the same;
others still seem to cause some pain.

I tell you I'm happy
but it's hardly the truth;
it's just easier for me to say to you.

I seem fine on the outside,
but inside, it worse -
always wondering about my ride in the hearse.

you tell me I'm fine,
I tell you, look harder.

my worth doesn't come from being someone's daughter.

you see, we all have struggles, no matter our age,
and while others are trying to pick up our pieces -
they drop some, we lose some, everything freezes.

so please, look closely when treading the ground -
there's pieces of people scattered around.

Now, I'm not trying to blame or
cause any trouble,
I'm just stepping outside
my own little bubble...

I'll always be here for you,
out among the rubble.
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41 - 53 of 53

Mental Illness Poems - Page 3

41. Another Trigger

Anxiety can be debilitating and is on the rise. This poem is dedicated to my daughter. Her struggle is real but thankfully she is getting better.

42. Living With OCD

I lived with depression and OCD for a few years, and during that time I was suicidal. Now I'm free from it. It still lives in me, but it's not in control of me. I thought I'd write a poem for people to understand just a little bit of how OCD works on the mind.

43. Dear Mom

44. 2 Hours

45. The Fire

I cope with my anxiety and depression by writing. Enjoy.

46. Exhale Anxiety

Take a deep breath and exhale all that anxiety. I wrote the poem I needed to hear. My anxiety is still high. I’m going to write my way out. I hope this helps someone else dealing with it. Sending you peace and calm.

47. I'll Fight For Her

This poem was inspired by my girlfriend. She has a disorder called borderline personality disorder, and sometimes seeing eye to eye can be hard, but no one will ever see her the way I do.

48. The Room Of My Life

49. My Ritual

50. I Don't Know

51. Finding Peace

I am a veteran of the Iraq war. I received the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. I was diagnosed with PTSD after my return and have been struggling with it every sense. I wrote this just to try and make people understand.

52. Voices

53. Hello, I Love You, Goodbye