“It’s all in your head.”

                                    “Chemical imbalance. You just have to deal with it.”

            “You’re just looking for attention.”

                                                                                    “What do you have to be sad about?

                                            “Just eat.”

The voices overlap

Telling me the same things over

And over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over

And over.

It’s like a backpack,

Weighing me down,

Forcing me to move slower.

Those voices, they don’t realize

That things that are nothing but a step to them

Are like climbing Everest for me.

But the mountain is getting easier to ascend.

The air is thinner up here

But I’m used to having less oxygen.

As I leave them at the bottom,

I can feel myself growing stronger;

More resilient.

Piece by piece, items from the backpack are unloaded

And left in the dust.

Yes, some days I run back and pick them up

But for the most part they’re not in my thoughts.

I’m getting better.

The voices don’t realize that,

And that’s okay.

Mentally I am stronger.

Physically I am stronger.

Emotionally I am stronger.

I’m ready to take on these mountains.