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Poetry: College

By @BizTheUnicorn

Hello, My Name is Mental Illness.

Give me a name.

The constant pinching of my fingertips in a crowded room, the foot that won’t stop tapping.

Give me a name.

The breaths are coming too fast, everything is closing in, I can’t stop, I can’t stop.

Give me a name.

Little red crescent moons dot the skyline of my skin.

I can’t get out of bed. I’m so tired of existing.


I’m sorry, it has nothing to do with you, I’m sorry.

Give me a name.

Call me anxiety, call me depression, call me PTSD

but that is not my name.

I am not the reason I couldn’t go to rehearsal.

I am not the obsession with every bruise or scratch on my skin.

I am not the constant rocking and the earthquakes in my head.

I already have a name.

I am not a statistic.

I am not a charity case.

I am not my mental illness.

I am not my trauma.

I already have a name.

Society is trying to rip it from my pinched fingers

My mind is begging me to call it normal, to give it my name

But the truth is, my name is not the rubble of my past

My name is not the aftershocks in my mind

My name is all the beauty that has come from it.

My loved ones, they have names.

I look at them sometimes, and I am amazed

at the fact that they can still smile

they can still laugh

after all the atrocities the world has committed against them.

I still smile

I still laugh

and that does not make the glitches in our minds any less significant

and the glitches don’t make us any less significant

any less human.

We are nothing but human.

It’s ok to need help.

It’s ok to not be able to deal with all of this by yourself.

I promise, you are not alone.

There are days when we can’t get out of bed

But there are also days when we conquer the world

when taking that first step out the front door feels like having a medal placed around your neck

because you did it.

You might not hear anyone cheering but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t absolutely amazing.


Wow. You are so beautiful. I love your name.

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