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I went to university
At the age of 17
Ripped away from high school
Is how it seemed

Mental health issues
Developed and grew
The summer before first year
I felt more than just blue

I went away to school
Happy to be free
Unaware that an eating disorder
Was consuming me

Throw in depression
And anxiety too
Nearly lost my life
I thought I was through

I battled the illness
Entering treatment first year
Gained some weight
Still struggling, though unclear

Four years of ups and downs
Fighting for recovery along the way
Peaks and valleys I found
As I tried to make it through each day

A decent GPA, volunteering,
activities too
Research work, sports, treatment
The time flew

An application to med school
A shot in the dark
I want to help others
Use my wisdom, make my mark

I know what it's like
To be a patient in fright
To be so down you're done
To bear illness weighing a ton

Yet that can't be on my application.


Sad you can't see,
The great physician I'd be.

But I'm not the boss,
Alas, it's your loss
I've hit a wall lately
A wall so tall it seems impassable.
I wake up daily to it encompassing my bed.
Making waking up a test of endurance.
Once I'm passed that, there's just another wall.
Around social interactions, work, moving, and to be honest.
It's all just ******* walls.
Walls I thought I broke down, that are now 10x as big.
Did I mention my fear of heights?
I take pills that are supposed to help,
and they do, but these halflives are nothing compared to these walls.
They're made not of cement but of sentiment and wicked dreams.
Thoughts of all the horrible options that could be.
Thoughts of a depressed self and a depressed spouse.
"You think the kid can tell?" That I'm loosing my grip?
That I'm terrified of the monsters under the bed?
I'm immobilized by my own mind like a car tire boot on my will to try.
Wish someone would tow me off to oblivion.
Or at least a place I could relax.
I'd modestly ask for just a few moments escape.
From all these walls
James 1d
vicodin is a long term friend
with a warrent for my liver
and my life.

we had an appointment
and god only knows
i could never be late for such
a chalky sense of closure.

and the young paramedic
who burst my vein and scolded me
could only pray his words
meant more than the hum of streetlights
as my body exchanged existence
for the embodiment of thought
and a brittle concept of my phrenic nerve

which was never more at peace than when
my lungs remembered the luxury
of standstill traffic

of weighted morals

of crushing insecurity's release
and the resulted ballooning
as squashed egos cry, and the garage door screams as it's yanked open

horrid sounds and tortured motion on both accounts

spiritual cataracts torn free
commercialized visions now blur

as the orange bottle morphs from
vicodin to paracetamol

equalized views in my bloodstream
as the sheet metal ceiling shifts to plaster tiles

to a TV set

to a bathroom mirror

to an agonized woman next door

to the back windows where my mother cries where no one but the whole world can watch

to a blue plastic mattress and a first floor window covered with bars

to a pale green day room with a caged TV
where there was bleach in the stomach of a nine year old

where the dying took their resurrecting breath between games of spoons

where the hinges screamed and blood pressure was taken three times a day

this where the living came to kiss death goodbye

until next time
I still find myself
scanning above the heads of crowds,
listening for your burnt orange voice,
planning my future with you in mind.

All of me knows that I must move on
but my core stubborn self that you found so endearing,
is holding on for dear life,
refusing to let you go.
Things were too perfect to be capable of ending.
Ray Parker Oct 2017
are you a boy or a girl
who are you to question me
to mention me
to look at me
my shirt is clearly red
not pink
who are you to think
did you assume
The tempest did not last long
Though while it rampaged it was terrible to behold
Stinging sheets of rain falling nearly sideways
On the fierce breath of the raging wind
A gale force ripping up everything in its path
Sharp stabs of lightning, the only illumination
Across a dark and battered land
And then
The storm blew out
The world dropped away
All that remained
Spinning through empty space
Trying to reorient
Moments of feeling grounded again
Like feet finding passing asteroids
Stability for a time
Too soon, the rock floating away in its orbit
Leaving only space
And darkness
Straining to find the next moment of solid footing
Eyes that acclimate to the dark
Learning to navigate the emptiness
Between those moments of steadiness
Then, without warning, a blinding flash
Remnant of the maelstrom
A bolt of lightning searing through space
The afterimage, glimpses of times gone by
Visions of moments that never came to be
Shadows of a future once dreamed of
Eventually fading away to blackness once more
No way to see what lies ahead
Or what direction “ahead” even is
Just drifting
To move forward
Through empty space
The storm isn't raging but the cold emptiness is almost worse
Yuki 4d
We are told that everything
is going to be alright
but what they do not realize
is that it is not
about when but how.
I have been trying to heal
by tearing myself to pieces
so far
and isn’t that also
a start?
Eyes wide open
Staring through your soul
I can see the pain in your eyes
I can see your hurting
I want to help
I will be there when you cry
I will be there when you cut
I will be there to stitch you up
I will be there through everything
Through thick and through thin
I will help you recover
I will help you regain your wings
I will help you blossom
I will help you grow
I will be there no matter what
When the rain pours
And rivers rise
When the storms come
When the lightning strikes
We will stand tall
Together through whatever i will never let you go.
We got this!
I've called myself young and ******
But that excuse is kinda ageing
Sometimes the enemy is myself
In the fight for my will to live
An inner conflict that occurs
More often than I care to admit
Approaching myself with utmost care
As if I am a war torn child
Who is use to conflict yet still afraid
Like bulletproof glass that's fragile
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