Depression Poem

Suffocating From Anxiety And Depression

I wrote this poem when I felt like I was suffocating. People told me that I will be fine, and that if I count to ten then I will feel okay. But they could never comprehend the pain that came with each second that went by. No matter how many times you count to ten, sometimes that feeling just doesn't shift.

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The Countdown

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Published: September 22, 2022

"Count to 10," they said,
"Deep breaths and it will pass,
because the feelings that consume you won't stay, and they won't last,"
but with each and every land mine that goes off within my head,
it doesn't quite feel long enough with only 9 seconds left.

With 8, I'm running out of breath.
I'm drowning in my thoughts
but forget it and think happy things,
'cause life is far too short.

By 7, I've already lost myself.
There's nothing in my eyes,
and at 6, I've lost the mask I wear
for my daily disguise.

5 cuts me open,
and 4 sews me back up.
By 3, the war is over,
but the scars it left are stuck.

By 2, the peace arrives,
but the drowning kind from hell,
the idea that the wound won't heal,
even if i rebel,

'cause pain isn't forgiving,
and at 1, it doesn't leave.
Instead, it just goes silent,
and for another few days I'll grieve.

Now before 10 had even started,
I'd already lost a piece of me,
but of course you didn't notice,
'cause in your own mind
you are free.

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