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Zywa Jul 2023
The psychiatrist

desperately deals hard blows --


to me, to my thoughts.
Novel "The Good Apprentice" (1985, Iris Murdoch)

'Desperate cases require desperate remedies'

Collection "Unspoken"
Max Neumann Dec 2019
ermh:

hello, mr. bucket.
i need you.

i need you to listen to me.
i need you to feel me.
i need you to give me advices.
i need to speak to you at anytime that suits me best.
i need your private number.
i need you to help me and i need you to
heal me.

i need
i nee
i ne
i n
i
Hello, Mr. Bucket
f Jun 2019
i went to see a psychiatrist last monday in the “avenues” and it was refreshing in a way because she actually listened to me, without making me nervous, which is hard. she asked me simple questions, i told her of the ****** abuse as a child, and the toxicity of my relationship before. she asked how my quality of sleep is, and i said it’s fine but i wake up crying or once i screamed “****** ******”, and i also punched the fan blowing on my face in my sleep because i thought i was being attacked. i have panic attacks after grocery shopping and a phobia of crowds, although i’m really unsafe anywhere, anything could happen is how i feel. (my whole life has felt like i’m on the edge of a cliff) i pick at my face, and sometimes pluck out my hair. embarrassing. but better than when i was a young girl and ******.. on my.. ****** hair... ugh. wow.
anyway she said it sounds like i’m having ptsd symptoms, and that my behavior is very common in people with childhood trauma. she adjusted my meds, now i’m on the highest dose prozac, doxycycline for my face, flexeril, klonopin nightly, and trazadone. oh and birth control. anyway i called out to work one day because the night previous i had had two panic attacks, in my sleep as well. long story short my coworker (i think she’s my friend but i really don’t know to tell you the truth) asked how i was, and i told her everything i just said. she replied with “ptsd from what?”
and my thing is i’ve told her of *** abuse when I was a child, and i’ve told her about my toxic abusive relationship. so i replied with photos i’ve taken over the years of my self harm and explained again the abuse and she never replied. i see her at work and she acts chipper as always and just exactly like my friend/coworker. but the only thing she said to me about the pictures i sent her “are you feeling any better?” as she was getting in her car.
that stung a little bit.
anyway i truly am a crybaby. no sense of direction because i have no sense of urgency. “nothing really matters, anyone can see”
and yet there are days when the sun shines even though it hurts my eyes, and it’s beautiful, the flowers in our front yard are beautiful. i’m grateful for life. maybe the meds are working again, hm?
6 - 24 - 19
Brittney T Feb 2018
"It will be 2 or 3 weeks before there is any change."

I doubt these will help at all.
This pit in my chest, it won't ever be gone.
Depression can't be cured. Or that's what I heard.
I've felt bad for so long, would feeling okay just feel wrong?

I was sitting on a bench, reading a book
Smiling
To myself. No one was watching.
I was smiling for me, naturally.

The change creeped up slowly.
So slow I almost didn't know.
I'm suddenly crying, confused
Thankful!
I didn't think I would ever again
See how bright the sun had been.
Notice how nice the breeze felt against my skin.

A tiny change, some pills a day
changed my life in a meaningful way.
I promise you, I'm not happy all the time. But I feel all emotion
Instead of constant inner commotion.

Thank you. Thank you.
Thank me. I could have ended it, I almost did twice. But right now,
Living feels nice.
People hate on antidepressants all the time. Theyve saved my life. Ive tried many kinds and finally found the combination that works. Please if you feel hopeless and alone, go to a doctor. The pills have helped me get into counseling and start a journey towards healing. Depression is scary, please please please don't limit your options from the get go. You CAN get through this. Much love
Farah Apr 2016
I was born with wounds in my head
they tell me I’ll be better and they give me pills
but oh, nothing takes you out of
me for you are stitched into my soul
like disease.
Sometimes I want to hide in my
mother’s womb and build
a fortress of all the tears we’ve cried
you and I
so there's a bed
and there’s our bodies intertwined
like homes that swallow the skies
and dance under the pouring rain
and during hurricanes
there’s a body and there’s another
there’s a pill and there’s the other
and there’s my dry mouth begging for
a drizzle, from your soul, boy.

**** medications.
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