sha- sh- shak- shaking.
I can't breathe.
my head is aching.
I can't find a place to grab.
I'm hyperventilating as I fall.
I fall to the ground as my body twists.
or... at least that's what it feels like.
my body says "think straight!" but my brain says "no, I insist."
I look at my prescription bottle,
teary eyed,
as I'm mentally in pain I still refuse.
but now it's 7 in the morning and all night I've cried.
no more pills.
no more prescriptions.
I'm like a poor man with piled bills,
I can't bother anyway.
I want to be my normal self,
but I feel like my regular self is a lifetime membership to depression and panic attacks.
I want to be the happier version of myself,
but I feel like to be that I have to be my medication's personality.
do I rely on prescription pills and let it control me?
or do I live on with my life and only hope I get better?
as I'm writing this my leg is bouncing uncontrollably.
I look at myself and see mascara smeared all over my face
and all on a sweatshirt that isn't even mine.
I glance over at my half-filled pill bottle that has lost its place.
I look down at my paper and see so many words scribbled out with pen.
does it end with this?
or will I feel lost even longer,
in my bed looking for a nonexistent place called home?
will I get stronger?
because it's been many damn years without an answer from God.
-
Author:
scarlet poet (
Offline) - Published: July 14th, 2021 17:46
- Comment from author about the poem: I struggle with anxiety now, and pills make me feel trapped. Sometime, you\\\'ll be trapped in a cycle that will last a lifetime, and it\\\'s impossible to get out of it.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
Sadly fantastic emotional writing, was not expecting that word at the. Each to there own and I hope this post brings you closer to, it!
Much peace and respect
Thank you so much, I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
the problem with anxiety, is similar to depression
or panic or phobia's, see
the fact that almost every human alive
suffers to some degree from all of these feelings/fears/dreads
means people's ability to empathise is hijacked
by their misunderstanding of the commonality
in the terminology being used;
the 'anxiety' you're referring to
has no relation with the anxiety other's feel regularly
in their everyday lives, and I think that's the first thing
we as a society need to address
about our collective indifference: to mental suffering
we need to educate better and help the general public
comprehend the distinction at-play, between
those 'genuinely' suffering from 'social interaction based'
mental 'conditions', specifically we need to use much
more expressive words, in labelling
this socio integration stemming: psychological conditions;
yes, while we all have
anxiety when going for a first date or a job interview
and we do all experience
panic, when faced with sudden danger;
what we experience
is an alien's lightyears of distance - away
from the 'anxiety' you're depicting:
that of GAD, of Manic anxiety or worse even
those last two weeks of Terminal agitation, to add
even more horror to our experience of that final breath...
so dear poet, please continue to speak you truth
and create awareness,
but maybe provide a little technical info
so ignorant people like me, can better relate to your words
and empathise with your suffering with kindness;
then hopefully, we can all help bridge the gap
in that general indifference
rooted in miscommunication based misunderstandings...
thanks for choosing to share!
(please forgive my lengthy
and opinionated ramble
I meant well)
And yes while everyone experiences it differently, I was expressing the way I have been feeling. Thank you so much for reading!
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