My mental health to me.

My Mental Health to me
For me
It's endless nights of crying
sometimes.
It's not knowing how to process things
and feeling numb sometimes.
It's knowing you should smile
You should laugh.
And knowing when I do those things
I'm bullshitting you.
It's being a professional liar
It's someone asking how you are
and you replying with 'I'm great'.
Instead of simply saying
'I don't know how I'm feeling'
Or
'I'm feeling cold and empty'
or
'I feel like the crying will never stop'
It's there being no continuity
And when you cry,
It physically pains your chest
nose bleeds, coming out in hives, throwing up.
It's your fragile body crumbling 
with your decaying mind and your barely there heart.
It's not caring sometimes
even though you know you should.
It's phasing out one second
and wanting a hug the next.
It's knowing you love people
but not feeling that love.
It's knowing that people love you
but not feeling it soak into your skin.
It's hearing sounds, but not listening to words
It's feeling like you're floating
every move you make as though running through water
because you're there but you're not there.
It's exploding and letting the hurt come out
lashing all around you
and damaging the people close to you
or at least that's how it feels.
It's tearing at your flesh
clawing away until you feel physical pain
because it's better than feeling emotionally dead
or emotionally tortured.
Nothing correlates, nothing makes sense,
yet you still try.
It's feeling claustrophobic
it's people thinking you're rude
because you forget to say please or thank you
hey, getting out of bed is exhausting enough
please don't make me socially interact.
It's sleeping for weeks at a time
It's putting on a face for work
and then sleeping some more
but then it's not sleeping at all
it's drawing and writing at 3 am
It's hearing voices in your head
reminding you of every sin
every insecurity
It's feeling trapped but lonely
It's begging for help
begging for closure
but not getting any clarity.
It's acceptance - no, that's a lie
It's trying.
It's fighting.
It's surviving
but feeling like you're not living.
It's wanting someone to kiss you
but fearing you'll seep poison on to their tongue
It's realising that these are all fragments of you
that also deserve acceptance and love
but running in the opposite direction
because you hate yourself
even though you don't want to.
It's knowing that this is your oldest friend
It's knowing there is no cure
and that it doesn't simply 'get better'
You just get used to it
except that you don't.
So really, it's just trying
and trying and fighting and trying
but on those good days,
it's knowing that you're surviving.