Drowning my antidepressant with a cup of tea, waiting for sleep to overtake me.
I've learn to ignore the begging of my stomach, I only have enough energy to feed one *****, and my heart is screaming for attention.

"If you take these pills you'll get out of bed" One pill two pills three pills four.
I'm out of bed and on the floor, crying silent tears.

"If you take these pills you'll worry less"
One pill two pills three pills four.
No weary thoughts cross my mind,
I'm indulged in sleep that seems to be the reason why.
Isn't this medicine supposed to keep me out of bed?

"If you take these pills you'll learn self harm isn't the answer"
One pill two pills three pills four.
I haven't binged in a week, I've been too busy with a panic attack spree.
If this isn't self harm then its self sabotage.

"If you take these pills you may have some side effects"
One pill two pills three pills- a
years supply later.

My face is stained with tears.
That seems to be the only thing I feel.
I think I'm done.
Or so I  wish it was done.

I take four green pills.
I'm addicted and scared.
I reach for more by force of habit,
Before I finish I'm consumed by darkness.


...

No I didn't overdose on anti psychotics,
but i've had my last dose of self pity.
Diagnosed, but not cured.
Enough with the pills.
Enough with these journal entries, and pitiful pep talks.
Enough with self indulgence.
I'm ill, not dead.
Sixteen years lived,
Two years defining me as anxious and depressed.
Its 2016 I call this "The Awakening"
If you fight for your sanity your drug intake won't define you.

One pill two pills three-
Who's counting?

It's silly how a few hours past I was drowning in despair, despite the fact that I still can't comprehend why I broke my streak of panic attack free
Silly me can't stand a loud crowd
Silly me let's it get to me
Silly me is lost in some cloud
Silly me freaks when he speaks
For that voice I've heard before
Singing me to sleep
Now I find it a bore
I tend to be pessimistic in the comfort of my home
But today I let it climb a shore
Silly me. I won't let it be.

I have this strange theory about perspective that the way we live our lives is based off of perspective. The way you judge your self, others, your attitude, what you do, what you see, what you hear, what you believe,  what you can and cannot learn. But it's ultimately up to you if you are willing to have a broader perspective on life and stop looking at things from your point of view but from others and I find it so fascinating how each and every person has their own perspective and how they can teach one another a different way to look at something...

The pressure’s building up
I feel like soda that’s been dropped.
I feel like I’m about to explode
And I know that soon I’ll pop.

I know what’s about to happen
And I need to escape this room.
Where I go, I don’t know.
But I need to flee the impending doom.

I need to get to the clinic.
There I know I’ll be fine.
They always knows what to do;
But can I make it in time?

But no, it’s too late.
My soda bottle has blown.
I am no longer able to move, for
The seed of anxiety has grown.

Now I’ve collapsed, and
My rational side has died.
I can’t handle this-make it stop!
My strength is again being tried.

All the techniques I’ve memorized
Have completely flown my mind.
All the things I have prepared
Are suddenly unable to find.

“Don’t forget to just breathe!”
Ah, yes, the mantra of those “helpful” ones.
Well, here’s a newsflash for you-
Being told that helps NONE!

My lungs are overworking now,
And my heart is beating fast.
And every single breath I take
I fear it might be my last.

My hands have spiders in them.
My brain has gone offline.
My vision’s getting foggy;
Please- just don’t pass out this time.

My mind is leaving my body
And it’s floating freely in air.
I’m no longer able to feel anything
Please help me; I’m so scared.

Now I’m descending back to my body
And I can feel every atom around me.
It’s too much-make it stop!
Why can’t anybody hear my plea?

Luckily I calm down
Before my monster gets his way.
He’s returning back to hiding now
But I know he’ll soon come back to play.

Perception, you haven't a dollar to look through someone else's telescope but your own. I don't recall paying a cost to see the struggles you dealt with. So what gives you the right to have taken a piece of me when you left. Weren't you supposed to have packed your own bags and take YOUR belongings. Not steal what I've worked on for years, my trust, my hope, my optimism. Forget the heart break. There's more to come. I'll learn to survive without you. I'm engrossed by the fact that I'm missing. You've collected your souvenir. You came as a tourist to explore but you turned out to be an unwanted guest with no actual moral to look through my scope. My view. My perspective. The pain I suffer I revealed to you. You laughed because you didn't believe it to be true just because you never experienced my hurt. You took a piece of me and left a mere sketch of what I no longer call love.