For I Am the Strong One

Jess Down with the Sickness (Mental Health) 1 Comment

This is a poem about me. But this is also a poem about you.
Or someone you know. Maybe not all of it, but some of it.

For I am the strong one,
who carries the scars on her wrists and thighs,
of years of pushed-down pain
and years of being dead inside
and years of no control

For I am the strong one,
who feels the shame and anguish of rape,
and doesn’t bother her family…
because her boyfriend and the police’s
first questions involved what she was wearing and drinking

For I am the scared one,
who trembles and shakes,
as she fights her own fight-or-flight reflex
and struggles not to scream

For I am the manic one,
who is having a glorious rush,
Spending, fucking, drinking, drugs, who cares!
It will all come crashing horribly down so soon

For I am the frozen one,
who is so deep into her panic attack
she can do no more than look at you
with eyes as feral and intense as a wild animal

For I am the chronic pain you caused,
when you hit my car and then just drove away,
leaving me spinning into traffic.
You damaged me for the rest of my life
while you simply walked away

For I am the tired one,
who has no more energy or motivation;
I am the one that is constantly
putting on a happy face,
and I am exhausted.

For I am the terrified one,
traumatized in my flashback;
forgetting what reality is
until my horror is today again

For I am the one that suffers.
I suffer in silence and I suffer alone.
my bipolar depression kills me in a million different little ways,
my other ailments seem to take care of the rest.

For I am the strong one,
who faces and fights her demons every single day.
and knows what the bottom of the hole looks like
really well
and keeps climbing anyway.

For I am the strong one,
who has faced death
not once, not twice, but three times
never blinking

For I am the strong one
who has lived to fight another day

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