How Are You?“I’m okay.”At least that’s what I tell youand what I tell myself

How Are You?“I’m okay.”At least that’s what I tell youand what I tell myselfBecause for as long as I can remember,there’s been this odd feelingdeep, deep, deep inside of methat I can’t quite explainand it wouldn’t go awaySome days it consumes medownplays even the littlest of the good things that happened to meIt’s as if I deserve thisand I have no right to be happyI am easily irritatedI push people awayeven if all I wanted was to call out their nameand ask them to stayBut what frustrates me the mostis that I no longer appreciateall of the things that made my worries dissipateI look at art; I used to make artbecause art is supposed to make you feel somethingBut how is that even possible nowwhen the void only keeps on growingand at the end of the day, you still feel like you’re missing something?That’s why I say I’m “okay”Two letters or four,however you spell itIt looks simple and easyIt doesn’t ask any questionsIt doesn’t take much out of my depleting energyAnd that’s what I want right now —what I think I needSome people see past my fictitious testimonies,my false confidence, false smile, false laughSo it looks like I’m not succeedingin the illusion that I keep conjuringThey tell me to man up and to stop overthinkingThey tell me to snap out of it; there are bigger problems than my ownGee, Karen, I didn’t know it was that easy! I should have thought about that soonerNow, I think you’ve cured me!I look around me and see how people can just simply be happyMy friends are going to med school,they’ve defended their thesis,they sleep in on weekends,they have time to watch a movieIt looks like things come to them so naturallyThen only one thing invades my thoughts in the wee hours of the morning:why can’t that be me?Deep down I know that those things can be misleading;that these people also have things that they’re keepingWe might have the same struggles,there’s just a little difference in the details It’s just that these bad brain daysmake me feel like I’m beyond repair,and this distorted way of thinking is here to stayand keep me in despairI tried everything there is:books that help you rediscover your purpose,catch up with my good ol’ friends,chant while in the sitting position called “lotus”,and redirect my focus to school things insteadI’ll admit that it somewhat helpedand suddenly, things are no longer as intenseSo here I am, thinking, “Did I…just make that up in my head?”So one day, I find myself singing againABBA, Beyoncé, Kanye, you name itI’ve set my mind on grad schoolI’m working on defending my thesisYou wouldn’t even believe that I got eight hours of sleep last weekendI also just watched a whole season of good TVI didn’t even know that the agents of SHIELD had been battling the KreeGosh, I don’t want this feeling to endBut that good, happy place doesn’t lastand the emptiness creeps in way too fastI thought I’ve had a good grip on this new realityHow did I let it get taken out of my hands?Here we go againIt’s barely been a minute since I actually felt saneHere we go again with this random period of crippling paranoia“Can we please chill for a minute, dear brain?”No.And it was there when I came to understandwhy people jumped in front of moving trains,why they threw themselves off buildings,why some chose to drink the night away— a quick fixActing as quickly as the void that swallowed them whole;as quickly as their desire to put it all to an endThey say that the truth will set you free;they say it’ll bring about inner peace,help you go to bed and finally get a good night’s sleepbut there are always two sides of the same coinand we rarely talk about the other story,the one where the truth can be filled with pain and agonythe one that makes us feel that we’re locked up in a boxand then suffocated by a bag full of life’s atrocitiesI wish more people would see this truththat I’m still me and you’re still youthat we are not the demons inside our mindsthat every day is a fight to no longer be slaves of the pain we feel insideI long for the daywhere I could be honestlook you in the eye, take a deep breath, and say,“The truth is, I am not okay.”I wrote this spoken word poetry piece in the quiet of the morning in my favorite café. All 827 words in under 20 minutes. There were no tears shed in the process of writing and practicing until today, where I broke down mid-performance in front of my literature professor and 16 of my classmates. I guess it was only then and there where I really felt every word I uttered. I was so focused on extracting those feelings and putting them into words, I neglected to understand what they meant. So here I am, back in the café, coming to a realization that there’s still so much pain left inside of me, even if for the past few days I feel like I’m finally getting back on my feet. It’ll probably take a little bit more effort (and maybe even that spiritual retreat next week) to achieve some sort of inner peace, but I’m glad I made this progress of acknowledging my truth today.If you ever find yourself resonating with this piece, I wish I could surround you with fluffy clouds, cute lil’ bunnies, and all the good things. If you need a friend, my inbox is open 24/7. -- source link

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