Tricks

Made on Canva by Nancy Ann

Having an anxiety filled day. Need to get it all out in a poem.

Tricks
Those old feelings creep up.
The dread and desire to hide.
My heart races, and my mind wonders.

To run and hide, away from the pain
It is just my mind, is it real or just in my mind?
These thoughts keep coming, creeping up on me.

Are they real? Is what I am thinking real?
Of my anxiety playing tricks on me?



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What Depression Feels Like

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The water is so warm around me.
Fills me with such warmth and love.
Slowly I feel it move,
Down and down, it goes.
The cold hitting my body 
As the warmth recedes 
Soon I am laying in a cold bath,
Wondering where the warmth has gone.

A good friend once told me that this is how depression feels. I do not have depression. I have anxiety. But I thought it was an interesting metaphor for depression. I wanted to write it down to give some awareness. He said once the cold hits you, you feel like the warmth will never come back.

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100%

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100%
I thought you had my back. 
I thought at least one person would support me! 
To support me no matter what, 
Defend me to no end! 
100 percent, but I was wrong. 

I'm not good enough for that. 
I feel betrayed but you say sorry. 
I guess others are better, 
And I just have to accept 
That I am alone in this world?

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When is Enough, Enough?

When is enough, enough?
When do you give up?

How long do you wait and try to fix something you never knew was broken?
How do you go on knowing there is a problem and not knowing how to fix it?

What do you do when you don’t know what’s wrong?
What do you do when they won’t tell you what’s wrong?

The anger, the frustration, the self-doubt grows, it never fades away.
The disbelief, the distrust, the longing for answers, never goes away.

What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong?
So many leave, but is it all because of me?

How many should we have in our lives?
Is it just the progress of life?
People coming and going in and out?

Am I the only one affected by this?
Am I the only one who cries for those who have left?
Is there anyone left to cry for me?




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What’s Wrong With Me?

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It is my life, to be the person no one notices.
The person they forget. 
Before you know it you realize,
They were never your friends.

It seems like when you think things are okay, 
They truly are not.
How can you trust anyone,
When everyone is lying.

What have I done wrong?
What is wrong with me?

Do I push people away?
Am I not a good friend?
Do I deserve to be alone?


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Sometimes

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Sometimes
Sometimes I need to step away.
Retreat in the darkness and hide.
Sometimes I need the quiet.
A place where no light can hit me.
Sometimes, I just need to step away.
 
But other times, I love the light. 
I want to be loud and bright
To go to a place that is loud and full of life. 
To laugh, dance and sing.

 
But sometimes the quiet is all I need. 

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Everything Ends

Everything must come to an end.
No matter how much work has been done.
No matter how much time has been given.
Everything must come to an end.

Sadness envelopes me as it ends.
A chapter of my life, which has gotten me through so many challenging times.
All of my work is gone in an instant.
Friendships, stories, development gone.
Where do we go from here, and how do I overcome this crushing defeat?
All things end, but I wish they didn't have to.

Check out her new book:

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I Was Wrong

Photo by Keenan Constance on Unsplash

I Was Wrong

 I thought they were my friends.
I thought I was important.
I thought they would support me, 
But alas, I was wrong.
I cherished the memories,
I cherished our talks,
I cherished our friendship,
But alas, I was wrong to cherish these things.
In the end, it never mattered.
In the end, it is all gone.
In the end, I am alone.

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The darkness pours over my soul

The darkness pours over my soul
As endless waves rush in.
The rising of the tide pulls me in further. 
Pulling my heart and filling it with dread. 

I found myself caught in the tide, while my body struggles to be free.
The darkness shrouds my existence, and soon I am gasping for air. 
The dark waters pull me down, filling my lungs with regret and despair.
I reach out trying to break the surface, but the darkness is always there. 

Pulling me back, pulling me down to the depths, I plummet. 
The pressure keeps me down, night after night, day after day,
I can’t see the light; the darkness is all I know.
 

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Am I your friend?

friend

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Am I Your Friend? 
Am I your friend?
Do you really care about me the way I care about you?
We use the term best friends, but is that just me?
But is that truly what I am to you?
 
Do I think more of you than you think of me?
When my usefulness is gone, will you also leave?
Why do these questions haunt me so?
 
I worry about the future, like an endless sea of doubt. 
Doubting myself and others, will I ever be happy.

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