Reflection

That phantom has always lived here

The shadow on the brain

That darkness within

The nonexistent existing pain

An unseeing disease

The hooded figure

The one that glazes over the windows

Hard to focus

Turns off the screens

And locks everything

The one who clamps everything tight

Forcing down the words

The actions

The will to fight

Not a figure,

Not a ghost or apparition,

A sickness

An illness

On the brain

That shadow on the brain

Took away my

Books

And words

Away my hopes

And spirit

But Death

Did not

Collect

Me But

He took everyone else

Except those who

Chose to

Leave me

That shadow pried away

The cherished young years

Of hope and those wide eyes

And tormented the rest

Made me feel the panic

Of nothing

And made me try to find

The light

Along this tunnel

Feeling along the walls

Unable to see straight ahead

And only look down

The phantom took away

The words

Away the names I used to

Remember

Away the faces I once

Believed in

The phantom made

Life

Difficult to work

Made speaking a challenge

Made focusing a riot

Made such a change to who

I was

That I didn't recognize

Who I had become

Who was this terrified person?

Thinking irrationally?

Believing in those barely visible

Sliver of hopes?

And believing I was nothing?

Worthy of nothing?

Worthy of the silence?

Worthy of the sleepless nights?

Worthy of the fear?

Why did the phantom take

Away everything I was

And replaced it with someone

I could not recognize?

Why take away those big smiles

And the people I never thought

I could lose?

Why is the question

I have tried to figure out

For years

I have praised the feeling

Of paint on my hands

And the feeling of words

Flowing from my fingers

But

Then suddenly

These things that kept me

Living

Were ripped away

No longer interesting

No longer fun

No longer worthy of my time

No longer bringing purpose

Losing a part of yourself

And what kept you sane

Through the years

Is indescribable

Because what are you

Supposed to do with yourself

When nothing no longer

Makes you happy

Or interests you?

What can you do with yourself?

What future can you imagine

And only hope and pray for?

Forcing yourself to be someone

Is not ideal and accepted

But when something else takes

Part of you away…

The panic

The feeling of falling

And unable to stop the feeling

No matter how hard you tell yourself

How irrational the thoughts are

The incredible sudden sadness

From dropping a pen

From not believing in yourself

From not saying something that

You should have

From being alone but being

Surrounded by others

From not working hard enough

For not talking enough

For feeling guilty

Just a constant cycle

Of guilt and sadness

Unable to stop the spinning and

Spinning and spinning and

Spinning

Everything seems so loud

Loud and obnoxious

And everything is just

Screaming

Everything

The guilt The anxiety

The depression

But you may not understand

It’s common

The stigma and the falsehoods

Surrounding the phantoms

And the fear

Of talking about what

Happens inside of us

Because it’s

‘Uncomfortable’ to talk about

People blame themselves for what

They go through

And others blame themselves

For not understanding

I have always believed that

Experience is better lived than taught

So why try to understand

What you cannot comprehend?

Why force yourself to understand

What you cannot?

Why believe that people can be fixed

With chemicals and speech?

Why not let them breathe?

I know what they go through

And vice-versa for me

Why not make a life

Out of helping others

Live?

The greatest deed known to man

Is the appreciation of another

Through understanding

And not badgering

Not hate and stigma

Not tapping and humming

And ‘mhm’-ing

And staring

But the acceptance of what

One can battle through

And not blaming the person

But blaming the shadow

Blaming that illness

For taking away

Life