Liar, Liar.

When I was thirteen years old, I wrote a poem called Liar, Liar, Clutching at Straws. I didn’t really believe in depression or anxiety… I definitely didn’t believe that I could experience them. But I did realize that something wasn’t right. I labelled it as ‘darkness’. Something intangible that was trying to oppress me spiritually and emotionally, and beat me down; so I wrote this poem in response to what I was feeling.

Liar, Liar, standing tall,
Think you’ve backed me to the wall?
Liar, Liar, standing tall,
Think your lies will make me fall?
Your aims, your games, your stupid tricks,
Your attempts to distract with pointless conflicts,
Are nothing more than sticks and stones,
Failing attempts to break my bones.
What I have you’ll never take.
This faith I have, you’ll never shake.
You lie and cheat,
To make us weak,
But this love I have will make me strong.
Think you’ve got me? I think you’re wrong.
So go ahead, do your best.
Put me through your stupid test.
In the end I know I’ll cope,
Because I have found my shining hope.
So Liar, Liar, clutching at straws,
Time to retract those useless claws.
Liar, Liar, clutching at straws,
You won’t be getting any applause.

In September last year, for Liptember, I decided to publicly share my battle with mental illness, which had very nearly ended in suicide. In the weeks following that blog post, despite the encouragement and love of friends and family, I began to feel that sensation of darkness, anxiety and depression, creeping over me again. I started feeling anxious about my writing; and anxious about who I was and what I was doing.
A few weeks prior, I had heard Clayton Jennings’ song Dear Anxiety, which had inspired me to use the gifts that God had given me to fight back against those feelings of inferiority and emptiness.
So, ten years after I had written that first poem, I wrote another.

Liar, Liar is my story and war cry against the enemy, against mental illness, and against the darkness of a fallen world.

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