Many a psychiatrist
Sitting in their stiff leather chair,
Has tried to tell me
What is wrong in my head
They review tests I've taken
With scales
Asking me how much I feel something-
One through three?
They dole out myriad pills,
That cause further distress
I try to keep my mind a placid place,
But these pills and these labels keep me in constant chaos
All the different labels plastered around me:
Depression, Anxiety, Bipolar, OCD, PTSD...
Doctor, won't you tell me,
Which one is it exactly?
I've gone to all these doctors,
And they all tell me something different
I'm starting to doubt their veracity
I can no longer be discontent, I can no longer be sad, I can no longer be stressed, I can no longer obsess occasionally about an arbitrary mistake, I can no longer be super elated without reason, I can no longer recount a haunting experience...
Without being mental in some way
And having a pill pushed on me by some "well meaning" doctor
Instead of taking the time to actually stop for a moment, open their ears, and get in touch with the very real experience of offering to help carry a burden,
With a little something called empathy.