This is a personal piece. Please be aware that the content may be triggering.
I don’t look ill. But I am. I’m ravaged by mental illness. To look at me you’d think nothing was wrong. I smile. I laugh. I keep going. I say I’m fine. But I’m far from fine.
I don’t look ill. But in my head a voice tells me to die every single day. Sometimes multiple times a day. It tells me that I’m worthless. A mess. Useless. It says I deserve nothing but bad things. It gets louder and louder when I try to drown it out.
I don’t look ill. But my arms are covered in scars and fresh wounds. Self harm is my coping strategy. Self harm is a constant in my life. Self harm has taken over my life.
I don’t look ill. But each day I take medication to help my brain. I take medication to stop me feeling low. I take medication to keep my mood stable. I take medication to stop the voice in my head.
I don’t look ill. But I have tried to end my life on numerous occasions. I have wanted to die. I still want to die. These thoughts pulse through my head everyday. I can’t get rid of them.
I don’t look ill. But that means nothing. You never know what’s going on inside someone. Don’t judge.
Picture from Pinterest