Poetry

 

Schizophrenia 

 

Boo!

Got you again, didn't I? 

See, the best thing about me,

 Is that I can’t be seen by most eyes. 

 

Here I am, 

Do you see me?

I’m right here. 

Take my hand, 

Come with my dear. 

 

Mommy can’t come save you, 

See, she already checked under the bed, 

I promised she locked up the shed. 

But sometimes I wonder, 

What about the monsters that live in your head? 

 

Boo! 

Here I am again. 

Did I scare you?

 

I can promise you, 

My dear. 

I am here. 

 

Do you mind, 

Can I stay? 

 

No, 

You want me to go away?

 

Well, If that’s what you want, 

but I have one last  thing to say:

 

Remember, honey. 

I live in your head. 

 

I’m friends with the monster under the bed, 

I know your darkest secrets, 

Why every tear sheds. 

 

I know every thought that  floats in your mind, 

They stop by my place on the way, 

Simply to say hi. 

 

I was there when you daddy yelled and mommy screamed,

In my fact my good buddy’s been there with them before, 

He said something about it running in the genes. 

 

I know your worst fears,

Every thought that floats between your ears. 

 

Sadly, I can’t leave my home

If I wasn’t in your head I don’t know where I’d go,

 

So, I’m gonna have to stay,

There’s not much you can do to make me go away. 

 

So, how about this,

You must  do as I say,

Don’t try to resist. 

 

If you don’t  listen I can summon my friend under the bed,

Or the monsters under the shed, 

Or some of the other demons that live up in your head. 

 

Your brain will grow,

You’ll  learn new things everyday

But remember I’ll always be here, 

I have nowhere else to stay

 

So, I hope we can be friends,

Because I’ll be here till the end,

 

In fact, 

Now that I think of It, 

The only way you can escape me, 

Is to simply no longer be. 

 

Depression 

Nothing today is going my way 

Once again, I’m left here laying in my bed, not knowing what to say

My mind always racing

So many problems that aren’t worth facing 

My head aches 

Trying hard to forget all it’s mistakes

Puffy eyes, fast beating heart 

I can’t help but feel like everything is falling apart 

Relationships being torn to shreds 

It’s hard to be there for other people when I have so much going on in my own head 

Mom says I’m selfish, dad thinks i’m cruel 

Little do they know I’m running on barely any fuel 

Motivation is hard to find 

 

It takes all my energy to keep myself in line

Things I used to love to do 

I can barely get through

Passions fading every day 

Feeling hopeless watching them wither away 

Trying to hold on to them as best I can

Trying to be my number one fan

But that feeling I used to get when I got an A or scored a basket or made a save 

That feeling was all I used to crave

But now, it doesn’t mean anything to me 

How could this be?

I’m searching for answers that deep down i don’t want to find 

Because I know they’ll just destroy my mind 

I know who I used to be, but that girl feels so far away. 

It seems like she’s completely strayed 

 

Kids around the world,struggling every day 

Slowly but surely withering away 

Yet, I have it all 

school, sports, an amazing family; someone always there to catch me when I fall 

 

So why? 

 

Why am I sad with this gift of a life?

Why do I feel like I will never suffice?

What is causing this gap in my heart?

Why does it feel like the world is falling apart? 

 

These answers I do not  know 

And at this point, I’m not sure where my life will go 

I’ll do anything to take away the pain 

Even if it’ll mean I wind up in chains

I want to make it feel better, but I don’t know how 

Getting fucked up is the only thing I can do for now

I just want to pop a pill or have a drink and go up to that place 

That place where loneliness and pain have  no face

I want to make my mom smile, I want to make my dad proud 

But the voices in my head are just so motherfucking loud 

My problem went from caring too much to not enough 

Finding a middle ground is unbelievably tough 

I wonder if it’s like that for other people, or just me

If only I could open my tired eyes wide enough to see

I may realize that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be 

 

There’s a voice telling me I’m worth it deep down 

But that voice can barely be heard by all the doubts loud sounds 

Teachers and parents and coaches love me, but can’t they see? 

It’s all just an act- that I can guarantee. 

I’m starting to get out of character though- crying in class, having panic attacks in the hall, ditching school, mixing drugs. 

What have I done? 

It breaks my heart to see my mom crying over me, trying to fix me the best she can. 

I know she’s my number one fan. 

But I can’t stop hurting her 

And all the good memories I have with her are beginning to be a blur.

My brother can’t look at me, and my sister cries over the things I’ve done.

I’m tearing my family apart one by one. 

It hurts to see my best friend replacing me each day 

But I know she had to get away 

 

So, what now? 

Or more so, how? 

 

How will I get this feeling to disappear

How will I get that little voice telling me I’m worth it to be the only one I hear? 

The answer I do not know

And because of that, sometimes I think it’d be better for me to just go

 

But then I stop and think, giving my best effort to ignore all the voices in my head 

And I lay quietly in my bed

The wind sings a calming song

And the chimes ring, almost as if they’re singing along 

My mind settles for one single second and I can hear my heart beat 

The heart that I thought had been accustomed to defeat  

Yet, it beat. And then it beat again, and it kept on beating 

And in that moment I realized my heart is  still competing 

It had been defeated over and over again but somehow it keeps beating. 

It’s never too late to change yours elf

But I know I’m gonna need a little help. 

I don’t know what my future holds, but if my heart is still beating there must be  some hope?

 

PTSD

I lay awake in bed,

Terrified to shut my eyes. 

 

I know the minute my eyelids close, 

The demons will rise. 

 

I breathe in and out,

Try my best not to scream and shout. 

 

I slowly lower my eyelids, 

The demons no longer want to be hidden.

 

The darkness fills my eyes,

Seeps into my soul 

 

Oh, please no, 

Don’t let me lose control. 

 

Moment’s later you’re standing over my bed, 

Your cruel eyes piercing through my heart.

 

I grab my blanket, 

Here comes the worst part. 

 

It’s almost like I can feel your body against mine,

Crushing my bones against the bed.

 

I clench my fists and tell myself,

This isn’t real, it’s only a memory that lives in my head.

 

This isn’t real, it’s only a memory that lives in my head.

 

Faster, my heart begins to pound,

It’s almost as if I can feel your sweat hitting my chest.

 

You grab me, yank me, pull me,

Get me undressed. 

 

I try to move, but you’re too big, 

It feels like my body is about to snap, 

 

You’re like a tree,

And I’m simply a twig. 

 

I try to tell you no,

I try to tell you stop, 

You don’t listen,

My heart drops. 

 

My body aches, I can’t move,

What are you trying to prove?

 

You get more and more aggressive,

You look proud, 

Almost as if what you’re doing to me is impressive. 

 

There’s nothing I can do to make you stop,

There’s nothing I can do to get you away,

So I guess I’ll   just take it,

And let my thoughts stray. 

 

I try to ignore the agony that curses through my veins,

The blood that covers the sheets, 

The sheer and brutal pain.

 

It doesn’t get better,

It only gets worse. 

 

What did I do to deserve this, 

Am I cursed?

 

My heart keeps pounding,

I try to catch my breath,

It feels like I’m drowning….

 

Deeper and deeper I sink beneath the sheets, 

I’m so weak…

 

I wake up,

My blanket drenched in sweat. 

 

The feelings flood my mind, 

So much regret.

 

I wipe away my tears with my sheet,

There’s nothing left to do but accept my defeat. 

 

What you did to me only lasted an hour, 

But that was all it took, 

To steal all my power. 

 

You left me there crying, 

And when I told people what happened,

Everyone thought I was lying. 

 

So now, every night when I go to bed,

I fall asleep to the sound of demons begging and pleading  to devour my head.  

 

Purpose

 

I always saw her crying in the bathroom stall,

I watched kids push her and throw her books in the hall.

 

I saw things she thought no one ever did,

I wonder why she hid. 

 

I continued to watch her everyday, until I thought maybe there was something I could say,

But I was overcome with popularity and pride, so I turned my back and walked away. 

 

The next month our teacher made an announcement, saying that one of our classmates had passed,

My face felt hot and my heart beat fast,

 Almost as if I was running a 100 meter dash. 

I didn’t have the right to cry, I didn’t have the right to shed a tear,

Why didn’t I say anything; I’ve been watching her for years. 

I saw her family standing in all black,

And I swear I almost had a heart attack.

Running mascara, messy hair, 

Why did it take me so long to care?

 

Years went by and I now have a husband and a little girl, 

I did everything I could to give her the world. 

But one day my child’s radiant smile began to fade,

She no longer would plead and beg to go with dad to the arcade. 

She wore sweatshirts and baggy clothes,

 The teachers at school suggested she’d rather spend time alone.

 My mind wandered back to when she was little and would beg for more play dates,

Little did I know this would be her fate.

 

Her excitement on Christmas morning no longer existed,

And I could see her perspective on life was deep and twisted.

Her grades were dropping, she quit playing basketball, 

It seems as if she was gliding down a slippery slope, 

with no one to catch her as she continued to fall.

 

I tried to catch her, time and time again, 

But it seemed as if her broken heart was unable to mend. 

Her perfect clear skin began to scar,

 She no longer wanted to lay outside with mom and look at the stars. 

I tried to help, but all she ever said was “I’m fine,”

I should have known that was the number one sign. 

 

I sat on my porch under my daughter's room, 

One peaceful and quiet Saturday afternoon.

As I was brewing my coffee, I heard a scream. 

I immediately ran upstairs, dropping my coffee,

My feet sopped in a puddle of cream. 

I ran faster than I ever have to my beautiful babies room,

But I already felt doomed. 

 

She laid there on the ground,

Faster, My heart began to pound.

I knelt down beside her and without thinking tears streamed from my eyes,

Her hands were cold, her body gone; I knew I would see her again, but I couldn’t wait that long. 

 

I tried my best to make it through every day,

 But there was just so much I needed to say.

I went to my daughters room and sat on the floor,

I wouldn’t have to miss her anymore.

I grabbed some pills and closed my eyes, 

I was about to end it all, but then I saw her there, standing by God’s side. 

It was the girl from my high school, and in her arms she held my beautiful little girl,

My insides immediately began to swirl.

I unclenched my fist and the pills fell from my hand,

I finally understood God's plan.

 

Years later I was driving in my car past an old creek,

Until I was startled  by the sound of a young girl's shriek.

I saw a girl fall into the freezing water,

I bolted out of my car in hopes to spot her.

I dove in after her and threw her onto the shore,

But it was a little too late to save one more.

 

I shut my eyes and drown to the bottom of that creek,

My physical body getting more and more weak. 

 

But my soul was filled with an unbelievable power, 

I soared to the heavens where I was reunited with my baby girl again,

And she reminded me that not every story has to have an end. 

 

We looked down upon the girl from the creek,

And watched her grow stronger every passing week. 

She grew up to be strong and kind, 

Always keeping that day in mind.

She prayed every day,

Thanking the lord for not taking her away.

I smiled at my daughter, and she smiled back at me,

I wonder who she would have grown up to be.

​

Mass Email 

 

Dear York High Parents and Students,

It is with a heavy heart that I announce the death of one of our students, Ryan Lewis. Ryan was an extremely talented student and athlete. He was a part of multiple clubs and sports teams here at York High. Ryan’s coaches and teachers described him as “passionate,” “hard working,” “funny,” and a “light on some of the darkest days.” Ryan’s family has allowed us to share his story in hopes that it will encourage other children to seek help if they are struggling. Ryan was diagnosed with depression when he was 14 years old. For weeks at a time, Ryan would struggle with motivation, sometimes being unable to leave his bed.  He began to lose interest in some of the activities he used to love. He would often sleep for hours on end, and wake up still feeling drained and tired. Ryan often struggled with feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness and hopelessness. He would have angry outbursts, and experienced  irritability and frustration, even  over trivial matters. Ryan’s parents knew he was struggling, but he would consistently  tell them that he was fine and didn’t need any professional help. Ryan’s parents believe that part of the reason he responded this way was because he didn’t want his friends and teammates to know he was struggling. Ryan’s parents want to remind us that mental illness does not discriminate. Girls can be depressed. Boys can be depressed. Straight A students can be depressed. . Failing students can be depressed. Athletes can be depressed. Theatre kids can be depressed. Children can be depressed. Adults can be depressed. Mental Illness can affect anybody, and there is no shame in needing help. We want to encourage any student who is struggling to reach out to a teacher or other trusted adult. We have resources at the school that can help. Our onsite school psychologists are hard working and motivated individuals that care about the safety and success of all students. If you notice your child is struggling, do not ignore it. Ryan’s family wants to remind us that needing help does not make you weak, in fact, admitting you need help is a sign of strength. Ryan’s parents are devastated by the death of their son, but they are hopeful that by sharing his story other children will be able to get the help they need, so that no one else in the community will have to experience such a tragedy. There will be a memorial for Ryan held in the field house on November 15th at 5pm. We will have additional resources available next week for any students that need help processing the death of their friend or classmate. Please let your home room teacher know if you’d like to speak with someone. Suicide is the second leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 10 and 34, and the fourth leading cause of death among individuals between the ages of 35 and 44.  It is important that we come together as a school and community to help prevent tragedies like this from occurring in the future. York High cares about our children as more than just students, but as unique and wonderful individuals. We are committed to providing any student who is struggling with the resources they need to recover and reach their full potential. Please keep Ryan’s family and friends in your thoughts during this unbelievably difficult time. York High will forever remember the impact that Ryan had on a variety of staff, students and families. Rest easy Ryan, you will be greatly missed. 

Sincerely,

Kathleen Levins 

Principal

630-460-7916

Kglevi1@YorkHigh.edu

 

Memoir 

I walked down the hall, my socks gripping the floor. My body felt  heavier with each step. I stared ahead. The thoughts were flooding my brain, but my eyes conveyed  a vacant glare. I was cold. I was tired. I was desperate. I was alone. I was scared.  I looked down at my wrist, the scars peered at me, reminding me of how weak I really was.  Each one represents a different struggle, a different battle, a different day, a different night, a different loss. My palms are dripping, my heart pounding, my legs shaking. A man walks past me, but he doesn’t see me. He’s in his own world, mumbling words that make no sense. Smiling and laughing one moment, violent and scared the next. He must be crazy. Am I crazy?  He begins to scream and run down the hall. I see a staff member run after him and hold him down. Moments later, a doctor appeared and shot something into him. He fell silent within seconds. I wonder what they gave him. Can I have some?

 

I continue to walk down the hall. The nurse leads me to a room. She opens the door and hands me a robe. I glance around the room. There is no glass. There is no window.  There is no escape. A single light bulb is implanted in the ceiling, creating a dim and dark essence. There is a girl sitting on a bed.  She has her hands over her face, rocking back and forth silently. She looks up, and our eyes meet. She has long black hair that rests upon her shoulders, and dark brown eyes that carry the same vacancy as mine. She has a round face, a small nose, and perky ears. She looks at me. I look at her. She turns away and faces the wall. I make my way to my bed. There is one pillow, one blanket, one sheet.  I lay down and stare up at the ceiling. I want to go home. I want to leave. I want to escape. But I need to be here. I need to stay. I cannot leave. Within minutes, a  doctor walks into the room. 

“You again,” he sighs. “Come with me.” 

 

The girl in the bed next to me looks at me again as I step off the bed. My feet hit the floor, my legs still shaking. I follow the doctor back down the hall. I see a man sitting in a chair, staring blankly at the wall. His eyes overcame the same vacancy I was so familiar with. The doctor leads me to a room. He pulls out a key and unlocks the door. He tells me to sit at a seat, right across from a window. Should I? It would be so easy. All I’d have to do is charge the window. 

 

I talk to the doctor, but he doesn’t hear me; no one hears me. He sounds annoyed. I can tell he’s irritated. The session ends and I return to my room. The silence eats me alive, consumes my every thought. Here I am, again. This was not my first time in a psych ward, and I doubt it’ll be my last. 

 

My roommate and I make our way to the dining hall. They’re serving chicken and rice. I hate chicken. I don’t touch my food. A nurse asks me why I’m not eating. I reply and tell her I’m vegan. She laughs at me and rolls her eyes. 

“Your loss,” she exclaims. 

 

When we get back to the room, there’s a nurse waiting by my bed. She tells me that my doctor has prescribed me a new medication. I asked what it was. 

 

“I don’t know,” she replies. “Take it, it'll help you.” I take the pill and swallow it in one gulp. About an hour later, a counselor comes in and tells us it’s time for group therapy. My stomach is killing me, and I have a horrible headache. I can barely keep my eyes open. What did he give me? I tell the nurse I’m not feeling well because of my new medication. She tells me she doesn’t care and to meet her in the main room in 5 minutes. There are 6 of us in the room. We all sit in a circle and examine each other. Moments later, a woman walks in. She tries to get us to talk, but no one will. 

 

“You guys want to be here forever, huh? You like being stuck in here? I don’t think so. I’ll wait here until someone talks. You’re never going to get better unless you open up. Don’t be embarrassed, you’re all pretty messed up. I mean, why else would you be here, right?” 

 

A few people talked, but she didn’t listen. She just kept nodding her head and looking down at her phone. The group ended and it was now visiting hours. My roommate stayed in her room. There were 3 people that didn’t have any visitors. I heard the nurses talking about it in the hall:

 

“I’m not shocked no one’s here, that bitch is crazy.” 

“You’re telling me,” The other nurse replies. “She's here every month. Seems like a waste of resources if you ask me. She’s a lost cause.” 

 

I’m starting to believe that maybe she isn’t the only lost cause in this hospital. 

 

Psychology Article 
 

Mental illness and addiction are issues that have persisted for many years. Anyone that struggles with one of these issues, or loves someone who does, knows the intense, demanding, and devastating toll it can have on you or a loved one’s life.  After much research, I have discovered that a great deal of people who struggle with addiction also struggle with an underlying mental illness. Today we are going to discuss the different aspects of research that point to a link between mental illness and addiction and express the importance of getting professional help instead of turning to drugs and alcohol to cope.  It is important for this correlation to be known because it will help treatment programs to develop plans that not only address the addiction, but also the underlying mental illness. Although there is not any known medication that can treat addiction, there are many different medications available for people struggling with mental illness. These medications can help treat one’s symptoms and may result in less people trying to self- medicate with alcohol and drugs. By the time you have finished reading this article, I hope you are convinced to get professional help for your mental illness instead of turning to drugs and alcohol to self medicate. 

In order to establish the correlation between addiction and mental health, we are going to review a study of homeless adolescents in Colorado. This study is extremely important because mental illness is common in homeless youth. Overall rates of psychiatric disorders in homeless youth have been reported to exist in 66% to 89% of the population. In the National Comorbidity Survey, it was found that homeless youth are 6 times more likely to struggle with mental illness than other youth. Rates of substance abuse among these homeless youth are similarity high; 41% to 48% abuse alcohol and 39% to 47% abuse drugs. These percentages are extremely elevated, considering the rate of substance abuse in adolescents is only 4%. The correlation presented by this data is clear- those who struggle with mental health issues are more prone to addiction. Of the youth included in the study, only 13.5% were unable to pick a drug of choice. Mental illness clearly plays a role in whether someone will abuse drugs considering that homeless youth are 6 times more likely to suffer from a mental illness, and only 13.5% were unable to pick a drug of choice. 

How Do Addicts Brains Work

 The high rate of comorbidity between mental illness and substance abuse is likely to reflect common contributing factors and brain substrates. Stress is a key factor in both PTSD and drug abuse. In addition to stress, drug abuse and PTSD share other processes such as sensitization and conditioned responses. In PTSD, sensitization makes the patient more sensitive to the stressor, while substance abuse sensitization makes the abuser more sensitive to the drug. Whereas in PTSD the individual is conditioned to an unpleasant stimulus, when dealing with addiction the individual is conditioned to a rewarding stimulus. In another study, doctor Athina Markok explains how drugs can relieve symptoms. For this research, they focus specifically on depression. Many doctors believe that when a person has depression, their brain is producing low amounts of dopamine and serotonin. When you take an illegal drug, such as heroine or meth (or drugs that may be legal such as alcohol, marijuana, and nicotine), your brain experiences a serotonin and dopamine “overload.” 

Technically, serotonin can be defined as a compound present in blood platelets and serum, which constricts the blood vessels and acts as a neurotransmitter. These neurotransmitters have a “starring role” in the body. As it helps regulate your mood, serotonin is often called the body's natural "feel-good" chemical. Serotonin's influence on mood makes it one of several brain chemicals that are integral to your overall sense of well-being. Dopamine, although similar, is not the same as serotonin. These terms are often grouped together because they do share some commonalities; both dopamine and serotonin help regulate your mood and sleep and can be linked to impulsivity. Furthermore, it is important to recognize that neurotransmitters do not act independently. Instead, they work together to carry out functions that we all experience daily. While serotonin helps regulate metabolism and appetite, cognition and concentration, hormonal activity, body temperature, and blood clotting, dopamine is responsible for alertness, learning, movement, and blood flow. Although different, both serotonin and dopamine help your body experience positive feelings and emotions.

Furthermore, since people who have depression lack dopamine and serotonin production, using drugs and alcohol can bring them an extreme amount of pleasure that they’re not used to. This is one of the reasons that substance use among those who are mentally ill needs to be closely monitored. People who struggle with feelings of sadness, anxiety, hopelessness, etc,  experience a huge relief when using substances- and this relief can easily become addicting.  We know that depression results from little serotonin and dopamine production, but over time many people’s brains do heal themselves, and production of serotonin and dopamine should naturally begin to rise. Although this seems hopeful, there is no way to tell when these increases will occur. Consequently, many people chose to seek medical treatment to help improve their symptoms. There are countless medications available that are used to treat mental illness; these include common antidepressants such as Prozac, Lexapro, and Zoloft. These medications, known as Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (also known as SSRIs), help your body produce more serotonin.

So, what’s the difference between illegal drugs and SSRI’s if they both help your brain produce dopamine and serotonin? SSRIs work by blocking the brain’s reabsorption of serotonin, which appears to help the brain better send and receive chemical messages, ultimately helping improve a person’s mood. This process works slowly, which is why antidepressants take at least 3 weeks to work. As previously mentioned, when a person takes an illegal drug there is an overload of these “feel good” chemicals. While antidepressants work slowly and gradually over time, street drugs (and drugs that may be legal such as nicotine, alcohol, and marijuana) have an almost instant effect as serotonin and dopamine flood your brain.  These drugs result in a stronger and more powerful release of neurotransmitters, which is why addicts prefer fast acting drugs. This type of fast acting and powerful effect is unnatural and can result in damage to your brain's ability to produce dopamine and serotonin neurotransmitters naturally. As a result, addicts may be unable to produce enough, or any, feel-good chemicals without their drug of choice. This is why it’s so important to seek professional help for your mental illness; there are a variety of safe and non-addicting drugs that can help relieve symptoms of mental illness. However, if you choose to use illegal drugs or alcohol to cope with your symptoms, your brain will crave that instant pleasure, making medical treatment seem less effective.  

Ultimately, the correlation between underlying mental illness and drug abuse cannot be ignored. Individuals struggling with substance abuse should not be ashamed of their illness, and with the proper resources and treatment, recovery is possible. If you are someone who has been diagnosed with a mental illness, or suspect you have one, it is in your best interest to seek professional help before turning to drugs and alcohol to self medicate. Addiction is a slippery slope, and once you’ve fallen it’s much harder to get up. Getting treatment for your mental illness can be difficult for some people, as it can be stigmatized by others. However, addiction is a very serious, challenging, and terrible illness to live with. Substance abuse changes the way your brain works, and recovery is long and difficult. Mental illnesses are already hard enough to manage, and adding substance abuse to that equation will only make things much more complicated.  If you do not seek help for your mental illnesses, things could get worse, leading to even more destruction and judgement.

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Podcast 

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My children's book and journal entries are hand written.