The walls of my bedroom have become
both a sanctuary and a prison.
My bed,
the sacred place
where my heart drowns
in its own anatomy
no one speaks here
The days have stretched themselves thin
only measurable in deadlines I have missed
my capability to care, soiled
to capability to exist, further soiled down
to capability to survive
and everyone knows lately I have barely been doing just that.
If I’m being honest
I do not remember the last time I was hungry
or ate a full meal
I have lost 15 pounds in the past month and no one has noticed I get my ‘abs’ from panic attacks and sleep paralysis where I wake up sweating
I am genuinely unsure how much longer
this can be my reality without it killing me
I ask it like a genuine question
hands raised sky high in the empty classroom of my brain
Is this what you call courage?
My ability to continue living, regardless of how pathetically?
I’ve started fainting due to stress
the doctors worry they are seizures
they keep giving me new medications, meant
to cure my battery operated mind
They aren’t sure if its Borderline Personality Disorder, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, ADHD, Complex PTSD or all of the above but what they all know is that there is something off
My mood swings both give me life and take it away from me
getting out of bed makes me feel claustrophobic
my anxiety makes me vomit in the mornings and
I can’t remember the last time I went through a week without a panic attack but if you ask I will tell you
I had a great morning!
If you ask again I will tell you
Living really scares me these days.
and it’s never been about not wanting to be alive
I just don’t want to be alive like this
but the fighter in me always knows how to muster up more
there is love and liquid courage bouncing around
in my veins even when I don’t feel it, it is
rooting for me always.
The bees in my brain haven’t stopped buzzing even after
all of these years and even in the thickest of it
tomorrow always pulls me aside to tell me she has
saved a special spot for me in the future
she tells me
one day, this hurricane of a mind that you have been both
cursed and blessed with will finally grant you permission to live with it
but you won’t know what that feels like unless you are alive to experience it
I have to believe
one day soon I will be alive
and experiencing it.
Anahita Monfared (she/they) is a queer and Iranian Vancouver based actress, dancer and poet! Her poetry explores mental illness, sexual assault/violence, masturbation, healing (and more) through an unapologetic feminist lens.
Featured art by Rue Mader