Mental Illness Poems - Page 3

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41. Music Of Wakefulness

I am only 19 and this is the first poem I've ever written. During my many battles with anxiety and insomnia, I put my late night hours into this piece, which gives it a sense of authenticity. It is a poem that almost anyone could relate to, a metaphoric piece based on the struggle of unwanted and persistent thoughts preventing much needed sleep. Although this is my first poem, it has been a product of years of depression, anxiety, and insomnia.
- By Caitlin L. Stafford
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 2018 with permission of the Author.
Experiencing Insomnia

It is in the dark of night
When insomnia sings me awake
To the tune of lullabies
And the rhythm of mindful blight.

It is in the dark of night
When insomnia sings me awake
To the tune of lullabies
And the rhythm of mindful blight.

It is the spotlight of the watchful moon
And the flickering of uncertain stars
That cradle my fears
And anxious thoughts they croon.

It is in the view of the sunshine,
Where my unwanted thoughts stem,
Waiting and ripening in my head
Until around my throat they twine.

And echoing in my mind
Is the blissful song of insomnia,
Sewing itself into my skin
As daylight leaves me behind.
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I love the intimacy between the poet and these "hindrances." The relationship between nature, insomnia and anxiety around the poet at first is inviting, and calming. It isn't until daylight,...

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42. Life Behind The Mask

I have suffered from a mental illness for a long time after suffering abuse as a child. My life hasn't been easy and neither has my battle with my illness. I've written this poem, as I know a lot of people suffering with mental illness will be able to relate. I want people to know they are not alone and to spread awareness of something that is still quite a taboo subject. For us suffering, the struggle is real.
Warning - this poem references self-harm/suicide attempts.
- By Louise
- Published by Family Friend Poems June 2020 with permission of the Author.
The Struggle Of Living With Mental Illness

Deep inside her mind,
Behind a picture-perfect smile,
Lies a desolate, lonely place
She hasn't visited for a while.

Deep inside her mind,
Behind a picture-perfect smile,
Lies a desolate, lonely place
She hasn't visited for a while.

A place of worst nightmares
Where her demons lie in wait.
Their armour made of trauma,
memories she cannot shake.

Last time she was trapped there,
Equipped with razors and a knife,
She overdosed on tablets
And almost took her life.

For in this place there is no daylight,
And all her hope is gone.
Her eyes blind to any joy,
Even her own daughter and little son.

Nobody knows her struggles.
If only they would ask.
She didn't have to fight this alone
And hide behind a mask.

But she found the strength to leave
And journey onto the path to light,
Finding her hope along the way
While she regained her sight.

And it's sad, for she had done well
She had already made it so far.
Months with no self-injury.
Her cuts reduced to scars.

The clouds began to darken.
Harsh words pushing her back.
The light and hope began to dim
As she went backwards along the path.

And she tried so hard to fight,
To keep going forward, not back,
But the harsh words kept coming
As she put back on her mask.

Her fear began to return
As that dark place came into sight.
Her strength weakened by the day.
She was once again losing her fight.

And she didn't know how to stop it.
Her energy plummeted to the ground.
She screamed and shouted for help,
But nobody heard a sound.

She's now on the edge of the dark,
Again holding the razors and knife.
Please, someone help her; she's scared.
She doesn't want to lose her life.
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I related so much to this poem. As a middle school girl, this line from the poem, "Nobody knows her struggles. If only they would ask. She didn't have to fight this alone and hide behind a...

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43. 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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44. 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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45. 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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46. Puppet

To me this poem represents being controlled by something you can't overcome. For example people dealing with mental health issues. You entire life is eaten by this power and despite your efforts you can't make it any easier. I think it's one of the hardest things to experience and saddest things to watch happen to someone else. So the puppet is you and the disease, addiction, person whatever it may be is what's controlling you.
- By Katie Q. McKee
- Published by Family Friend Poems July 2018 with permission of the Author.
Feeling Helpless

The despair that holds her back tugs on her heartstrings
But like a puppet she will obediently play along

She was once optimistic and filled with joy

The despair that holds her back tugs on her heartstrings
But like a puppet she will obediently play along

She was once optimistic and filled with joy
But that way of life soon came to an end
Her mind was used as a distorted decoy
The distraction that consumed her entire world

She wanted something to change
It didn't matter if that were good or bad
She wished she could take a stand
And sometimes imagined that she had

Under the influence of a higher strength
She patiently waited untouched
Looking to anyone for the answers
With the piece of hope that she clutched

Was she weak or a diamond in the ruff?
Passing her by without looking twice
She knew this life would be tough
But she never got to roll the dice

Succumbed to her controller, she falls short
This won't be her last match
The strength she's building inside will be enough
To make that final catch

The thin, torn strings are starting to break
Soon the puppet will be free of the ache
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The puppet was me. I still feel like that sometimes. Last year I had to break the strings. I was in an 8 year relationships. I was his puppet. Whatever he said to do, I had to do it or he...

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47. Unclear

This poem was written during my rock bottom. I was going through a divorce and dealing with the death of my sister. I did not see a light at the end of the tunnel. I lost myself in the midst of the emotional chaos.
- By Catherine Lamberton
- Published by Family Friend Poems May 2020 with permission of the Author.
Feeling Lost And Unsure Of Who You Are

Never knowing,
Always seeking
happiness and approval,
even the words I am speaking.

Never knowing,
Always seeking
happiness and approval,
even the words I am speaking.

Constantly doubting
my choices, my actions.
Succumbing to fixes,
for temporary satisfaction.

Overwhelming anxiety,
illuminated by fear,
controlling my life.
Who I'm becoming is unclear.
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For those who are unfamiliar with mental illness in all its varied forms, this is a good place to start sharing Catherine, as it's no longer a marginal disease. My son introduced me 20 years...

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48. Lie Out Loud
- By Mark Bird
- Published by Family Friend Poems March 2022 with permission of the Author.
I cry alone
But dance in crowds
I whisper truth
But lie out loud

I cry alone
But dance in crowds
I whisper truth
But lie out loud

I hide my hope
But make believe
I dare to dream
But daren’t achieve

I lose my smile
But play at bliss
I take my aim
But often miss

I walk so weak
But fake my force
I proudly speak
But hear remorse

I scream inside
But battle brave
I delve down deep
But I’m not saved

I cry alone
But dance in crowds
I whisper truth
But lie out loud

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I absolutely love this poem. I do like to over analyze some poetry, but this poem could mean so much. This poem really touched my heart. I know how it feels to be there but not actually be...

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49. My Repossessed Hope

Top 500 483
- By Evangeline King
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 16, 2023 with permission of the Author.
Gasping for air
I cling, I cling
to whatever's left
to anything

Gasping for air
I cling, I cling
to whatever's left
to anything

Walls closing in
room spins, room spins
Getting so dizzy
this ride needs to end

Fist hammers down
the pain, the pain
Sunshine is gone
There's nothing but rain

Fall to my knees
I cave, I cave
Tide swept me up
now I'm lost in the waves

Too tired to fight
Can't cope, can't cope
No way to regain
my repossessed hope
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50. 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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51. Panic

I have suffered acute panic attacks. I've been wanting to write a descriptive poem, but have found it very hard to put into words.
- By Evangeline King
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 3, 2023 with permission of the Author.
Poem About What A Panic Attack Feels Like

One thousands beats per second
It hammers ‘gainst my chest
I feel it in my temples
Tonight there’ll be no rest

One thousands beats per second
It hammers ‘gainst my chest
I feel it in my temples
Tonight there’ll be no rest

Tortured is the breathing
Fast and shallow til it’s gone
Air that’s so elusive
In this fight to fill my lungs

A mind out of control
Thoughts will not be still
People think I’m crazy
Illusions can be real

Floating round in vertigo
Raw throat can’t make a sound
Get me off this ride!
The world keeps spinning round

Tiny little tremors
Turn to quakes beneath my skin
Every limb is shaking
It seems there’ll be no end

Then here comes the thoughts
Oh, the thoughts are just a beast!
Tumors, cancer, heart-attack
On lies this mind will feast

It’s when every little ache
And every little pain
Is blown out of proportion
Courtesy of my brain

I crawl into my shell awhile
Until this horror ends
Until the monster lets me go…
In panic’s grip again
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52. 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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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. Music Of Wakefulness

42. Life Behind The Mask

43. 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.

44. 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.

45. I Don't Know

46. Puppet

47. Unclear

This poem was written during my rock bottom. I was going through a divorce and dealing with the death of my sister. I did not see a light at the end of the tunnel. I lost myself in the midst of the emotional chaos.

48. Lie Out Loud

49. My Repossessed Hope

50. 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.

51. Panic

I have suffered acute panic attacks. I've been wanting to write a descriptive poem, but have found it very hard to put into words.

52. The Room Of My Life

53. Hello, I Love You, Goodbye