you're not in control,
by your mind doesn't wander.
for a few hours everything is frozen,
still.
all emotions disappear,
like a soul in a corpse.
concentration is impossible.
but it ends with relief.
you're no longer a zombie,
but they return.
the fear, and the thoughts,
and they're angry.
you tried to suppress them,
but it made them stronger.
you yearn for the high,
from the drugs meant to help.
it's desperation against control.
allow a pill to control your mind,
not a disorder
the end is beckoning
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
you're not in control,
by your mind doesn't wander.
for a few hours everything is frozen,
still.
all emotions disappear,
like a soul in a corpse.
concentration is impossible.
but it ends with relief.
you're no longer a zombie,
but they return.
the fear, and the thoughts,
and they're angry.
you tried to suppress them,
but it made them stronger.
you yearn for the high,
from the drugs meant to help.
it's desperation against control.
allow a pill to control your mind,
not a disorder
the end is beckoning
(tm)
recently (finally) diagnosed with anxiety and depression and was put on sertraline (zoloft). I wrote this while in a "zombie" state people experience when beginning the medication. so far it just makes me numb then more depressed and more anxious. sorry this poem is dark and all over the place
