Poem about suicide

I have discovered this poem by Andrea Gibbson that has hit my heart and every fiber in my body so hard! It encourages me to get better and beat this depression and not just survive...but LIVE. Here is the link if you don't want to read the entire poem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5IBBtBpmug

The Nutritionalist - Andrea Gibbson

The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables.
Said if I could get down 13 turnips a day
I would be grounded,
rooted.
Said my head would not keep flying away to where the darkness lives.

The psychic told me my heart carries too much weight,
Said for 20 dollars shed tell me what to do.
I handed her the twenty,
she said stop worrying darling, you will find a good man soon.

The first psychotherapist said I should spend 3 hours a day sitting in a dark closet with my eyes closed and my ears plugged
I tried it once but couldnt stop thinking about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet

The yogi told me to stretch everything but the truth,
said to focus on the out breaths,
everyone finds happiness if they can care more about what they can give than what they get

The pharmacist said klonopin, lamictil, lithium, Xanax
The doctor said an antipsychotic might help me forget what the trauma said
The trauma said dont write this poem
Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones

But my bones said Tyler Clementi dove into the Hudson River convinced he was entirely alone.
My bones said write the poem.

To the lamplight.
Considering the river bed.
To the chandelier of your faith hanging by a thread.
To everyday you cannot get out of bed.
To the bulls eye of your wrist
To anyone who has ever wanted to die.
I have been told, sometimes, the most healing thing we can do-
Is remind ourselves over and over and over
Other people feel this too

That tomorrow that has come and gone
And it has not gotten better
When you are half finished writing that letter to your mother that says I swear to God I tried
But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back
There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into the spine

So let me tell you I know there are days it looks like the whole world is dancing in the streets while you break down like the doors of their looted buildings
You are not alone and wondering who will be convicted of the crime of insisting you keep loading your grief into the chamber of your shame
You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy

I have never met a heavy heart that wasnt a phone booth with a red cape inside
Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside some days

I know my smile looks like a gutter of a falling house
But my hands are always holding tight to the rip chord of believing
A life can be rich like the soil
Can make food of decay
turn wound into highway
Pick me up in a truck with that bumper sticker that says
it is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a sick society

I have never trusted anyone with the pulled back bow of my spine the way I trusted the ones who come undone at the throat
Screaming for their pulses to find the fight to pound
Four nights before Tyler Clementi jumped from the George Washington bridge I was sitting in a hotel room in my own town
Calculating exactly what I had to swallow to keep a bottle of sleeping pills down

What I know about living is the pain is never just ours
Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo
So I keep a listening to the moment when the grief becomes a window
When I can see what I couldnt see before,
through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind
and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds.

So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, dont try to put me back in
just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better
but knowing there is a chance our hearts may have only just skinned their knees knowing there is a chance the worst day might still be coming
let me say right now for the record, I am still gonna be here
asking this world to dance, even if it keeps stepping on my holy feet

you- you stay here with me, okay?
You stay here with me.
Raising your bite against the bitter dark
Your bright longing
Your brilliant fists of loss
Friend

if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other,

my god thats plenty

my god that is enough
my god that is so so much for the light to give
each of us at each others backs whispering over and over and over

Live

Live

Live