My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as they struggle to open. Beads of sweat forming above my brow as I desperately search for familiarity. It was then I realized, I was trapped. Locked away in my own mind once again— hyperventilating. Tears streaming down my face, as I fight my own thoughts.

It’s a daily battle, not being able to be yourself. Not knowing who you are, but being hyper aware of all of your flaws. The dissociation of every panic attack, the fear of all the anxiety, and the pressure of every depressed thought.

None of these feelings are rare, yet no one seems to truly understand. You’re not alone, but no one is there. In the end you’re just you, whether you know who that is or not.

Be there for yourself, as waking up is an accomplishment. Living is one of the most difficult things to do. I can’t say anything, though, I’m hypocrite. With that being said, there are times when hypocrisy saves lives.

The mind is the true captor.

In a dark subdued room sat a girl, once very strong and confident, broken and in tears. She had never dreamed of how quick her happiness could be stripped away. One article of clothing at a time, she now felt exposed, vulnerable, and dirty. A guilt not cause by anything that she had done, but by what had been done to her, now crushing her.

In a corner of a room stands what one would see as a boy, with a since of demented accomplishment in his eyes and sadistic grin across his face, he replies with two simple words,”lighten up.”