I live with this outdated illness
That keeps following me around
Just when I think it’s gone for good
It creeps up without a sound

If you only knew how it killed me
But cruelly kept me alive
You would know that waking up
Is as good as fighting to survive

Where did I go this time
And how long will it take to find me
Will these pills give me the will to live
Or how about all the ******* therapy

Sometimes I wish it was cancer, or a tumor,
Something to prove I’m not well
Some redeeming affliction
To paint a portrait of this sickly hell

And when it hits the way it does,
Life gets put on the shelf
What kind of illness is this, where the
Main symptom is losing yourself