Beautiful is Skin Deep .

by Caitlyn, 15
(Canada)

I have a new addiction ,
Yes, I still make myself bleed .
But , people called me fat .
It frightened me because now,
People are starting to see what I see every single day.
Ugly , fat .
But now ,
I put my finger down my throat after meals .
Because I want to look like a supermodel

Imperfect

by Naureen Hossain
(Gaithersburg, Maryland)

Background (2011): A girl who feels as though she can be herself in this world.

Copyright: Naureen Hossain

Imperfect...

Look inside my eyes, what do you see? 
A girl who can't be set free. 
Look inside my heart, what do you feel?
Nothing as though made of air.
Look into my soul, who is it you see? 
Not the person reflected on the outside. 
I am a shell of myself. 
I reflect what you want to see. 
I cannot be me. 
I cry at night knowing I cannot be who I want to be. 
I am not perfect. 
Imperfect is what I want to be. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you, Naureen. Extremely well said!

Alone

I stare out at the world through misted eyes, eyes that look empty & hold no joy. People are carrying on living yet I cannot hear them, to me the silence is deafening.

I try to remember the little girl that used to feel excited about the prospect of the future, of new feelings of love & of adventures yet to come but she has gone.

I feel ashamed to admit that at times death can be appealing, especially when others have suffered more but the torment I feel still haunts my soul like a reoccurring nightmare & I feel trapped in my thoughts of despair.

Hatred runs through my veins, twisting its ugly vines around my heart till I can no longer breathe! But it is not me, its the monster living within my shell, controlling & destroying the person I used to be.

You sit there judging me & I know you wonder why? Why does she feel like this? If I knew the answer I would be that little girl again wouldn’t I?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you! Full expression of the dark is just as valid as of the light. Light/dark, dark/light. Peaks/valleys, valleys/peaks. Equal time, it all just is. We change, then change again, and again, and again. It is all true and not true too. Loving it all, even the judgment!

Thank you!
Laura

There's No One Here.- Depression Poems

by Caitlyn, 15
(Canada)

I don't have a poem, I have a story.
I had a friend, a best friend, named Julius.
We were inseparable for 4 years.
THEN she came along.
What it was that over powered my being so much? I'll never know.
He talked about her.. a lot.
Admitted to sleeping with her. Twice.
That's when Julius and I had a fight, somehow they always ended up being my fault.
We fought for 2 hours straight, yelling.
Then I remember he went,
"I love you, now get the fuck out of my life"
Walked out.
He's with Devin now. Haven't talked to him since.
But, Devin emailed me. Told me I cut for attention.
Do you have ANY idea how much that hurts? She's never done it.. So how does she feel she has the place to judge someone who does. I mean, I DON'T do it for attention, no one does. I do it because it's the one thing that keeps me sane and reminds me that I'm still alive. I remember her email, yelling at me; telling me to grow up. That I did it all for attention. How shallow I was. She knows I tried to kill myself; yet she seems to have the right to make me feel worse about myself. I'm always told,
"Rock bottom is just good solid ground. A dead end street is just another place to turn around"
Well my rock bottom, there's no one there. It's a tiny space, like a well. And my dead end street, there's people cornering me in.
I'm stuck; I'm lost and hurting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When we get in these tight spots, what helps the most is another perspective. Of course, first of all you have to be willing, be open, to another perspective.

Assuming that you wrote because you ARE open and willing, I'm willing to give it a go.

Not to make light of your pain, but lets just step out of that scene for a sec. Let's get up above the dead end onto a roof top, for example, and look down and see.

From that perspective, I see something kind of like Lord of the Rings. You on a hero's journey, and the monsters are raging and it seems impossible to overcome and move on.

But it is a test, a very real test. These tests are there as a huge part of your destiny. These tests are a huge HUGE part of your TRAINING. To strengthen you. Really to help you FIND your strength.

It really boils down to you choosing to say what is stronger. Is it your inner core, your inner mettle? Your character? Your love of yourself. Your love of your friends even as they hurt you? Can you love that cutting is something you've done because it was the best option you knew at the time? AND THAT IT COULD be time to develop other options for yourself?

The world is full of people. People. People are ALL here to learn, to be tested, to make quote mistakes, to learn from mistakes. We are all screwing it up. We are all regrets in the making!
We are all immature idiots!! But seriously...I have always used this goofy saying...We are each a prickly pear in a bowl with a bunch of other prickly pears. I don't know what a prickly pear even is! So substitute porcupine, that is the general idea.

This doesn't likely help but it is a FACT. The prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain behind the forehead, is our higher thinking center. That part of the brain doesn't start growing till we are past 20 years old!!

Imagine that inside you...(and it is true) there are a string of lights. From the tip of your head to the tip of your tailbone are a string of lights. Not unlike Christmas tree lights. You are a dense body there to carry the light of who you really are around.

When it gets intense, stop. Stop and sit and tune into and listen to and look at and feel your inner lights. And say soft mama things. Say in your mind, "shhh, I'm here. I'm here, its ok, shhhh ... I'm here for you. I care. I love you. You are ok, shhhh. this will pass. calm calm calm."

You can also, or otherwise, see and feel golden yellow light, or liquid, in your center. Take refuge there. Be silent there. Still. Imagine you are a tiny baby and the universal divine mother is holding you. she is kissing your baby fingers and just staring out into space. Just holding you. You can feel her heartbeat.

shhhh. shhhh. shhhh. its ok. Let your pain flow into her. She can take it all. release it. feel it going.

with love
Laura

Your type. Depression Poems

by Caitlyn, 15
(Canada)

Don't worry.
I know all about your type.
You are the kind of guy that can text one girl all day,
And talk to her all night.
The only thing I really know is that you're feeling sad.
But I'm not gonna lie, I don't feel bad.
Because even after 6 text messages and 3 missed calls,
You still slept with my best friend.