I can tell that my eyes are losing their sparkle –
a once glittering ocean turned into
the dull North Sea off the coast of Bridlington.
The things I used to enjoy no longer interest me,
and I seem to be spending more and more time sat in bed
staring out the window and watching the world tick by
without me.

I worry that people are getting tired of me,
and I am so scared of disappointing them
that I don’t even try anymore
because I would rather miss out than be wrong.
I try to contain my sadness
and keep the misery nice and tight and hidden
because who wants to live with the constant threat of rain?
Instead, I use myself as a lightning rod,
but even then I worry that people will see the cuts and scars
and pity me, or think I am attention-seeking.
But what is self-harm except a cry for help?
A way to let people who pay attention know that
I AM NOT OKAY
without actually having to say the words.

I wish I was a little bit braver
and I wish I cared a little less about what other people think,
so I could escape this self-imposed isolation
and join the people I watch outside in the real world.
All it would take is a few small steps around the glass
and I might start to feel alive again
before I am forced back into the cage by my own health.

I know it would be easy once I get out there,
and yet I stay in my comfortable loneliness
knowing it ultimately helps nothing.
I will try take an extra step each day until I make it out there.
I hope my courage keeps up.

– for those doing their best to get me out there