Thursday 1 August 2013


It's the asking for help that is hard. But it's the effect on those you ask that is the hardest. The extra concern. The extra pressure you put on them. The fear that you are asking too much. That you are making things worse for them by making things better for you.

Then you spiral. The guilt starts. The recrimination of self begins. The spiral gets tighter and faster. The words in your head are tinted in silver. They shimmer and shine so grotesquely pretty.

The silver-tongued bitch that is anxiety and depression sidles in and settles in to whisper the worst things to you. And you smile as you listen to her, so that no one will worry more...

And you know she's there. You know it's lies.

But you still wonder... is she telling the truth?


1 comment:

  1. I decided not to lie a long time ago because I don't want to remember the lies and who I lied to.

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