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1.  I called the doctor every day for three weeks      just to ensure that I was doing okay.      I left voicemails      that grew slowly      more agitated, less soft and sweet,      asking for my results,      for my dose,      hoping for some change,      for some answers,      and still knowing I'll receive silence.      I've been through this before. 2.  I hold the small bottle      and cringe      as the smell of the alcohol wipes      sting the inside of my nose      and the needle point      glances soft against my skin.      I don't want to press,      I don't want to push.      I've done it before and I know      it hurts      and it will ache for days after,      but it will get better.      I know it gets better.      I've been through this before. 3.  I glance at the pills      on my dresser      next to my alarm clock      for the third time this morning      and tell myself that I will take them      before I'm out the door.      I know I need to.      I know it will help.      but the effort feels immense      and my body is loose from sleep      and I can't seem to go the short distance      and open it all up.      I leave that morning      stomach empty,      bottle still ******* tight.      I do this every day.      I've been through this before, too. I am stuffed full of things to do and things to say, but accomplishing something is not on the agenda today. I don't know when it will be. I don't know that I want it to be.
0
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
I'm Going To Be Sore Tomorrow
1.  I called the doctor every day for three weeks      just to ensure that I was doing okay.      I left voicemails      that grew slowly      more agitated, less soft and sweet,      asking for my results,      for my dose,      hoping for some change,      for some answers,      and still knowing I'll receive silence.      I've been through this before. 2.  I hold the small bottle      and cringe      as the smell of the alcohol wipes      sting the inside of my nose      and the needle point      glances soft against my skin.      I don't want to press,      I don't want to push.      I've done it before and I know      it hurts      and it will ache for days after,      but it will get better.      I know it gets better.      I've been through this before. 3.  I glance at the pills      on my dresser      next to my alarm clock      for the third time this morning      and tell myself that I will take them      before I'm out the door.      I know I need to.      I know it will help.      but the effort feels immense      and my body is loose from sleep      and I can't seem to go the short distance      and open it all up.      I leave that morning      stomach empty,      bottle still ******* tight.      I do this every day.      I've been through this before, too. I am stuffed full of things to do and things to say, but accomplishing something is not on the agenda today. I don't know when it will be. I don't know that I want it to be.
noah
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
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