no matter how much i sleep, rest, or nap i'm exhausted
i've taken to yawning in my favorite class.
no matter how easy i take it, my body still aches when i move
it's frankly rather disquieting.
no matter how much i clear out of my head, i'm still hurting
letting go of difficult situations is hard.
no matter how ahead i get, i'm still stressed for the next thing
the rapidity of life is eating away at me.
no matter how kind i am to those around me, i still know shame
impulsivity of emotion is a thinker's nightmare.
no matter how much faith i have, i still feel uncertain
my god is for me, but it feels like life is against me.
no matter how mature i am, i am still undercut by those older than me
focusing on the positive is not going to be theraputic right now.
no matter how much control i have, i'm still shackled to my anxiety
i cannot just "calm down" to ease your or my own conscience.
no matter how many decisions i make, there is still much left undone
slowing down is a luxury, one i take guiltily and not without consequence.
no matter how much i improve, i'm still bound to expectation of perfection
humanity is not perfect, and neither am i, broken and inadequate, but we try, oh we try.
no matter how much joy is in my life, i still feel the crushing weight of depression.
i said i was doing better
no matter how much i am validated by my loved ones, i still hurt myself
my eating disorder has infected my system completely, down to my bones.
no matter how many breaks i take i'm still being driven into the ground
crying because of household tasks is pathetic.
no matter how much i try to pretend life is not stressful, it's
digging itself into my heart and soul.
i am not okay, and those who know it are trying to keep themselves afloat
i can't escape this tired, this exhausted, no matter how hard i try.
"the bags under my eyes have stories of their own"
This is an old poem from my senior year of high school, but I still relate to a lot of what is said here.
