who am I? part 2

Who am I?

I’m constantly faced with this never-ending question,

I’m tired. 

I’m tired of second guessing 

I’m tired of feeling incompetent

I’m tired of knowing no other emotion than sadness

Who am I?

Who am I if not a daughter

Who am I if not a sister

Who am I if not a friend 

Who am I without people?

Do I even exist?

Another night of shallow breathes and sobs

Who am I?

Who am I without crippling fear?

Who am I without insecurity?

Who am I without self-hatred?

Do I even exist?


who am i? part 1


Love to me has always been such a mystery. We’re raised knowing that love is something shared between people. Okay, but how? I’ve grown to realize that love is such a complicated emotion, far more complicated then we give it credit for. A child’s first experience of what is presumed to be ‘love’, is with their parents. Growing up my parents’ love was a battle; a battle that somedays was violent, whether it be physically or with words. But when I watched tv shows or movies the parents were constantly loving on each other. How come mine were different? Don’t get me wrong, my parents have their affectionate moments, but as a child those don’t stick out as much as the ones where nasty words were thrown around. My parents forced me to grow up. My parents forced me to grow up when I became their emotional punching bag. They never physically hurt me but when it came time for them to vent, 10 year old me was apparently the perfect candidate. I doubt any 10 year old wants to hear about how big of a piece of shit their father is or how lazy and useless their mother is. But when the fight was over and all was said and done, they go back to kissing and hugging each other while the gap in my heart grows and grows. From then on I took the protective roll, I had to protect everyone; my mother from my father, my father from my father, and my siblings from the world. 

But who was protecting me? Who was actively shielding me from pain? No one. 

I grew up watching my parents hurt each other and now I wonder will I hurt the person I love? Is that how love works? Are love and pain synonymous? 

the pillar.

i give and give little bits of me

but eventually there wont be enough


i feel hollow


i give so much of myself to those that I love

but rarely do I get it in return

even if my world is crashing down ill hold theirs up

i am a pillar that holds so many people

but the pillar is weak

the pillar is fragile

the pillar is cracked

but the pillar is still standing

maybe thats an excuse to keep piling up on, the pillar 

maybe they believe the pillar will always remain


i, the pillar, am hollow

i am weak

i am fragile

i am cracked

but I am still standing 

for how long?


Hair is such an interesting concept. 

In some cultures it might be the biggest indication of a woman’s femininity.

But no matter the perspective, hair is important.

I didn’t realize how important hair was until it started suffocating me.

Although my depression does not live in my hair; it felt like it.

It felt like all my negative emotions were literally hanging on my shoulders.

But that wasn’t the reason I chopped it off.

I chopped it off because I was victimizing it.

I never could get up to wash or brush it in the morning.

I never combed it the right way.

I stopped loving my hair, and as a result my hair stopped loving me.

Sounds ridiculous, but its the truth.

We were both suffering and something had to change.

I chopped it off so that we can grow healthier together.

As I cut it off, I promised that by the time it gets to the length it used to be

I’ll be a happier and healthier person. 

Chopping my hair off gave us both freedom.

to my future children.

to my future children;

you’re beautiful
you’re so beautiful
i will work hard everyday so that you know how beautiful you are
from the moment you entered this earth you were enough
to me, you will always be good enough
to me, your beautiful soul and ethereal spirit is enough
i will work hard everyday so that you never cry yourself to sleep
i want you to know that my love for you has existed way before you were even a thought
i will work hard everyday so that your heart never aches because of me
there will never be a day I don’t think you’re absolutely beautiful

to my beautiful future children;

you’re already enough.


A message to people who do not have depression;

We don’t need you to understand what we’re going through, we just need you to simply acknowledge it.

Acknowledge that there is a struggle
Acknowledge that we do suffer
Acknowledge that we can be happy and have depression

But most of all, acknowledge that our pain is valid.


I believe the thing I struggle with the most on a regular basis is longing. I long to be better, I long to not feel like my world is crashing down on me. Every morning I wake up feeling emptier than I did the previous day.

I’m so numb.

but then i’m not

But then I’m numb again.

I’ve come to realize that my life is a rollercoaster of being numb for long periods of time then feeling everything all at once.


But where does the longing fit in?

After the numbness subsides, the longing attacks.

I long to be happy

I long to value myself

I long to go far away.

My heart yearns to be anywhere but here.

but i’m stuck