Look around you.

Not just your immediate surroundings.

Look further.

Look at the world.

What do you see?

Chaos. Suffering. Pain.

Racism. Sexism.

Bombs. Murder. Rape.

Hunger. Starvation.

Harrasment. War.

Shootings. Death.

Man against man.

Human against human.

How can you say there is a God?

That he is merciful?

Kind?

Worthy of worship?

Where is he?

Why doesn't he intervene?

If he is powerful, why not bring peace?

Until there is proof

Until the suffering

The wars

The discrimination

The death

Has stopped, I will believe in no God.

Even if He is there, I would never worship him.

Hey, you.

Yes you.

You there?

I need to tell you something.

It won't take long.

You can do it.

Whatever it is you're struggling with.

Whether it's overcoming something, doing a project or even getting out of bed.

You can do it.

I believe in you.

Trust me on this one:

Life gets better.

So chin up, sweetheart.

The world hasn't got you beat yet.

I'm not

Okay

My thoughts

Are killing me

They torment me

Insult me

Break me

Make me feel

Worthless

I want

To scream at myself

Wake up

Wake up

Wake up

It's just a dream

But I can't

Because it's

Not a dream

It's real

Life feels

So pointless

I can't see

What reasons there are

For me to

Keep going

I'm fighting

A constant battle

Against the world

But I think

The world is winning.

Depression is not

"Tragically beautiful"

It's exhausting

Feeling miserable

More often than not

And having no motivation

To do anything

Not to get out of bed

To get dressed

To clean your room

Or anything else

It's being plagued

By the awful thoughts

Of ending your life

Of everything

Not being worth it.

Anxiety is not

"Tragically beautiful"

It's the feeling you get

The second before

Your chair tips

But you don't feel it

For only a second

You feel it

Every waking second

That fear

In the pit of your stomach

Like a rock

And sooner or later

It will be too heavy

To carry.

Having both anxiety

And depression

Is not

"Tragically beautiful"

It's not having motivation

To get up

And go to school

But feeling afraid

Of what would happen

If you miss anything

The mess

Is making you anxious

But you just say

"I'll clean it tomorrow"

It's caring too much

But also

Not caring at all.

Don't romanticize anxiety

Or depression

Or any mental illness

Don't fake it, either

Because maybe

There's someone

Dying inside

Who's afraid to speak out

Because mental illnesses

Are so generalized

And romanticized

And pushed down

Into a tiny ball

Of something

That no one

Properly knows

Anything about

Because it was painted over

By people

Who decided that

They wanted attention

And thought

The best way to do it

Was to fake something

And in the process

Make it seem

Less horrible

Than it actually is.

You put on

The same mask

You put on

A fake smile

But still

You wonder

Why no one sees

What's really happening

Behind it all. 

You never tell the truth

When asked "Are you okay?"

It's always a lie

"Yes

I'm fine

Don't worry about me"

And yet

You're saddened

When no one can see

The way

You truly feel

Behind it all. 

Even though

You want someone

To see

How broken

And shattered

You really are

You still hide it

Behind loud laughter

And big smiles

No one sees

Because you hide it

You don't open up

You don't let people in

You're afraid

Of looking needy

Or attention seeking

So you hide it

Put the mask back on

Plaster on a smile

Wipe away the tears

And lie

"I'm okay"

Over

And over

Again

And again

You want support

You want someone

To understand

To look at you

And see through

The external costume

Into the internal turmoil

Of thought

And feeling

That's consuming you whole

But you hide it

So no one will see

No one

Can comfort you

Protect you

From the bad things

If you're

The only one

Aware of them.

I don't see the point

In living anymore

I'm not contributing

I'm just here

Miserable

Broken

Lonely

Sad

It just seems so easy

To pull the rope tighter

To swallow the pills

To make the jump

To pull the trigger

But I can't. 

What of my mother?

My father?

My sister?

My brothers?

It would make them cry

The dogs won't understand

Why I'm not there anymore

So I'll keep on living

My useless

Sad

Broken 

Miserable life

Because I can't find it in me

To end it all.