"antidepressant" poems
i am tired of talking to adults no i do not want to see a dermatologist or a psychologist or a psychiatrist or a nurse no school counselor i am definitely not having suicidal thoughts and no doctor i do not want to talk about the results of my mental health survey. of course dr. cook i am totally open to the idea of taking an antidepressant dear god i am tired of talking to adults do not want to be diagnosed i do not want to talk about it stop worrying about me, no, 'i am not depressed,' this is my life so thank you for not making me sign a life pact but leave me alone i am not going to cry in front of another strange adult. do not diagnose me. all i want is to be normal, i am tired of the pills. i am done with talking to adults
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
I find it quite ironic, that my antidepressant pills taste like death.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
miles away
i’m feeling F a r A w a y…
i see myself and i just float (t)here
waiting to wake up from this fog
things are hazy
curse that **** juice
what happened exactly?
the words are heavy on my tongue…
can’t get myself to spit them out
can’t get myself to speak the truth
can’t get myself to admit what you did to me
out of character behavior
out of body experience
oh
you don’t remember
oh
i’m sorry i’m holding onto things you forgot all about
i tried to use you as an antidepressant
you just used me
i should have left my feelings for you at the door
i wish i had said no to you
i wish i had been given the choice
i’ve got to let it go (but when? and how?)
if i don’t think about it, it won’t hurt.. right?
gotta focus on someday cuz today hurts a little too much
i wish i could stop thinking about this
i wish i could forget you
i wish you could understand that i don’t hate you
i just wish i’d never met you
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 5:35 PM UTC
It's the first time we meet.
I can't get a read on that sweet summer smile, or the words that drip like thick robes of gold honey; soft-spoken and seemingly slow motion, a quite complicated question pours viscously from your lips.
You ask me, "What is your name?"
Now honestly, I considered honesty. Truthfully, I prefer anonymity, but it's considered rude to not share some glimpse of identity. Albeit reluctantly, I must decide: Do I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin"? Well honestly, honesty isn't always the best policy.
It's our first date -
Instead of worrying about which outfit I choose, I worry about the disclaimer I wear on my arms. I worry about the first time your gaze inevitably falls upon the self-inflicted displays of pain that dress my paper-thin skin. I worry, will you see a warning sign that reads "DANGER: Do not touch"? I wonder, will you listen?
Or will you choose to swallow me whole, a bitter pill with a list of flaws longer than the side effects of your favorite antidepressant. Do the benefits outweigh the risks, do you take a trial of me to see if I'll make you feel better or feel worse? Do you pour me down the drain when you find out I'm not good enough?
It's our first kiss -
A moment tainted by guilt that the sweet taste I leave behind on your lips is not saliva, but antifreeze. Drink me down and I'll poison you from the inside-out, and there will come a day that I'll be the taste you'd do anything to erase from your mouth.
It's our first fight -
And then our second, and our third...
The sand is slipping through our hourglass too fast, as we drag our blood-stained feet through a wasteland of eggshells and glass. All that remains is a crimson trail of mistakes, meandering back to the spotless place we started at.
It's the first time we meet, and
You ask me for my name. Silence.
Should I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin". If I'm being honest with myself, I go with the latter...and you'll walk away to avoid the mess that comes after.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
i dont know much but if theres one
thing i know its that the feeling i
get when im with you is something
i cant put into words no matter how hard i try
but i will try
i just hope you know that your hands around
my waist was a better antidepressant
than any doctor could prescribe
and even though the world is so big
all my thoughts are about you
theyre always about you
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
First I wrapped the Belkin cover on my 64GB iPad
tight shut with 3M shipping tape
then I glued one helium Happy Birthday teflon balloon
from CVS Pharmacy on each corner with SuperGlue
and took it down to the beach.
Kneeling at the tip of the tide
I beseeched the gods
accept this offering
heal my disbelief
make my body and soul whole. . .
I’ve stopped adding Abilify to my antidepressant
and I’m scared to feel the emptiness again.
I launched my little ship
on the next outgoing surge
as a Red Bull can bobbed beside
and I closed my eyes in supplication.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
the stifled sound rumbling on the tip of my tongue eager to come out.
It roars with happiness and excitement from what it seems.
But behind that exotic laugh is a soul. The laugh hides the soul keeping it hidden from outsiders.
The laugh keeps a delightful smile on someones face. Everyone wants to feel happy..even if it is for a split second.
That laugh takes your mind away from the dreadful thoughts of suicide or the painful outlook of what is called you life.
The laugh takes away the pain as if were an antidepressant.
But what happens when the laugh stops...that dreadful pain resumes to what is reality as it consumes your identity as a whole.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
if there is an experiment to determine ways
of permanently doing away
with this everyday weight that is
depression,
i volunteer.
take me first.
take me first
before i send myself away.
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC
You were a drug to me, babe.
You weren't the medicinal kind either.
You weren't just a painkiller.
You weren't an antidepressant.
You weren't a Xanax.
You weren't ******
You weren't even the good kind of drug.
You weren't ****** or **** or ecstasy.
You were the kind of drug that
messed around with my heart and left my brain feeling clouded.
You were the kind of drug that left me confused and
feeling worse than before I took you.
But I did.
Again and
again.
I told myself I would
break this vicious cycle of unscrewing your cap and
hating myself for it afterwards.
That I wouldn't draw back the plunger and
force you into my veins anymore.
But I didn't.
Again and
again.
I told myself you
would be the death of me.
Every high you gave me left me feeling
lost in the clouds.
I might as well have been
six feet deep.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 11:14 PM UTC
Love is a drug.
It's a depressant, stimulant & hallucinagen.
Love is an anxiolytic & antipsychotic,
It's a mood stabilizer & antidepressant.
Love is the treatment for my instability.
So where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Where's my script for rose-colored glasses?
Doesn't he see that I need my Klonopin;
My Zoloft is running low.
My Haldol is depleted & my Adderal is out.
I'm shaking with anxiety
My depression's dragging my down
To the depths I just escaped.
I'm seeing things that shouldn't be.
And I'm running in circles, too afraid to stop.
Where is my psycho-pharmacologist?
Why won't he give me my daily dose,
One simple touch to give me sanity?
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
Your lips on my neck
And your hand between my thighs
Is better than any antidepressant
A dr could prescribe
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 6:25 AM UTC
Drowning my antidepressant with a cup of tea, waiting for sleep to overtake me.
I've learn to ignore the begging of my stomach, I only have enough energy to feed one ***** and my heart is screaming for attention.
"If you take these pills you'll get out of bed" One pill two pills three pills four.
I'm out of bed and on the floor, crying silent tears.
"If you take these pills you'll worry less"
One pill two pills three pills four.
No weary thoughts cross my mind,
I'm indulged in sleep that seems to be the reason why.
Isn't this medicine supposed to keep me out of bed?
"If you take these pills you'll learn self harm isn't the answer"
One pill two pills three pills four.
I haven't binged in a week, I've been too busy with a panic attack spree.
If this isn't self harm then its self sabotage.
"If you take these pills you may have some side effects"
One pill two pills three pills- a
years supply later.
My face is stained with tears.
That seems to be the only thing I feel.
I think I'm done.
Or so I wish it was done.
I take four green pills.
I'm addicted and scared.
I reach for more by force of habit,
Before I finish I'm consumed by darkness.
...
No I didn't overdose on anti psychotics,
but i've had my last dose of self pity.
Diagnosed, but not cured.
Enough with the pills.
Enough with these journal entries, and pitiful pep talks.
Enough with self indulgence.
I'm ill, not dead.
Sixteen years lived,
Two years defining me as anxious and depressed.
Its 2016 I call this "The Awakening"
If you fight for your sanity your drug intake won't define you.
One pill two pills three-
Who's counting?
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
it would take
78 antidepressant pills or
60 mg of nicotine or
11 lbs of pasta or
4 bottles of wine or
2 minutes of carbon monoxide or
a single text message
to make my heart stop entirely
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
It's been three weeks,
I'm an antidepressant away from being okay with this,
I'm just numbing the pain,
I'm tired of feeling this way,
The worst part is, you just don't understand,
You think I'm being dramatic,
But that didn't keep me from wanting to jump in front of a train,
It's whatever though,
I just want to go,
And you'll never know until I'm gone,
That you actually gave a ****
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 10:23 PM UTC
If you don't mind Mr Betts,
Can I call you Mr Betts?
Yes? Great
Mr Betts,
I'm going to keep this brief
i'd like to go through a few Q&A's
Off the record as always
And no apologies
~~~
Have you ever tried not being a priick?
Or attempted to not mess up shhit?
Every feeding and helping hand,
Innocently presented,
Got bit
Your past can't always be the culprit
The future shouldn't be viewed as unimportant
That opens the door for thoughts of forfeit
Forced to be reactant
Bilt a bridge to get over it
The craftsmanship is always immaculate
Admired from entrance to exit
Then, in the very next moment,
There's always a head turn to confirm it
A ***** and Gomorrah double take to make sure the thing stayed lit
Though you've never turn to stone or **** a brick
It's not a one time incident
I'm sensing that punishment is no longer a deterrent
It isn't, isn't it?
The troubling news is...you guessed it
Everyone's reclaiming their investment
Or eating the cost, willing to take the loss just to be done with it
Setting a telling precedent of embarrassment
One with an abundance of resentment
All the while, this battle internal is constant
Brought on ironically by an antidepressant
Raging against tendencies of a suicidal mindset
It's crazy how ugly things tend to get,
Within a quarter of a heart beat minus a minute
In other words, it's instant
Good luck, you're gonna need it."
©2024
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 1:08 PM UTC
Depression is not
a dragon--it
cannot be killed
with a single
****** of an
antidepressant
or a hug.
It is not
a void or a
wave--depression
is like a
melancholy
song only your
ears know--it
sets a mood
for everything.
It is not
a weasel
that grabs
hold of you
from behind.
It is more
like lead
poured down
into each
ventricle of
your soul--
the flesh
is heavy.
Depression is
an allergic
reaction to
self-confidence
and beauty.
Like a rash,
it is hidden
under your
clothes so
no one sees.
It is the
chill in your
fingers that
no blanket
can warm.
Oedipus had
it, the disciples
caught it too--
the germs are
in the sin and
evil we see
each day
(that lives
in us).
Depression is
not a deficiency--
you cannot plug
me into the
wall and charge
me up with
smiles and love.
It is more
like a mirror
at the fair, so
shaky and
convoluted, but
it is in
your eyes.
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 8:49 PM UTC
She's soft, furry, tender
She's hot when I enter
Jumps on the comfy couch
Claws, hook me in the back
Ready to attack, the mac
Thirsty and hungry for food
Perfect times in the mood
Pounding it cuz I'm rude
Remember I'm your dude
Your favorite, your dream
Your imaginations best
Never stop until I bust
Pleasing your squirts burst
In a hurst, slow it if starts to hurt g spot to make it work
Make it wet I can surely bet
Dripping, make you tripping
Close your eyes, relax lay back, hold on tight, get ready for the fight, just please don't bite, dribble the ******* licking the picking, after I'm sticking deep in, all in to the belly, feeling all the jelly, groan make you moan, make you feel the best ever, my antidepressant last forever, drooling all over the sheets, when our bodies meet, sweating pores left when I'm finish complete, leave you knocked fast asleep, holding hands in the oceans sand...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
It has been four years,
and I'm still an antidepressant away
from completely losing my mind.
The roses on your grave
have all deteriorated and died.
My heart has a hole
where you're meant to be.
And maybe that place
has been dead for awhile.
I can't even cry,
because there are no tears left.
You stole them away
when you took your last breath.
I screamed, did you know?
It was a new kind of pain,
not one I was used to.
I was led down some path.
It was dark and all twisted.
I couldn't get out; I was eaten alive.
These scars remind me
that this is not my imagination.
If I could rip out my heart,
I would give it to you.
Just to see what it would be like
to say goodbye.
Would you still love me
if you saw me these days?
Or would you turn your back
like everyone else?
It's been four long years,
but you're always on my mind.
It's like a knife in the gut,
twisting and turning.
Your face haunts my dreams,
but it's slowly fading.
Soon it will be forgotten;
a small glimmer in the breeze.
But a small voice will remind me
you are somewhere,
resting with ease.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 12:54 AM UTC
God **** it.
I took you like an antidepressant.
And that wasn't fair,
And it didn't even work.
It wasn't good for anyone involved.
It's tricky trying to find the right balance.
I need to help myself,
And you'd be better off curing someone else.
I don't think I'll be filling my prescription this time.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
I stumbled into you via modern technology,
Shot out of an atom smasher with endless chances
To spark some debate on space and all that lies between the moon and your window.
I like to believe in the odds of random probability,
Taking extraordinary circumstance and crafting it into friendship,
A testament to innovation, modern socialization,
And classically, it's boy meets girl once again, and she's sitting on a fortune of intellect.
Thinking for yourself has unlimited *** appeal behind it, and you're glowing with charisma.
You're my drug, my very own antidepressant.
I thank every God for the atom smasher that made it possible to collide with you.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
Dear Music
thank you for being a friend
thank you for being there when my world was at an end
thank you for being the ultimate antidepressant
thank you for saving me from myself because I'm my own worst enemy
there's a lot I could thank music for, like giving me confidence when I walked through a door
or blocking out people in the morning on the bus
thank you music, for being there for all of us
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Is love the cancer
or the cure?
Is it a drug
with a heartbeat?
Something like an antidepressant
when times get hard,
Nothing but a placebo
for the boredom,
A tranquillizer
that makes life bearable?
Or is it nothing more
than a poison
that courses through my veins?
Something sweet turned to venom
when things go wrong,
nothing but a toxin
that breaks me from the inside,
An anesthetic
with a bitter after effect?
Sugar isn't always sweet.
is love the drug
or the poison?
And is there a vaccine to save me
or an antidote to fix me?
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
Every note
Every word
Penetrating like a sword into
The wounds you leave
When you deceive
The injuries you inflict
Objectifying her
And her all too human needs
She cleaves to you with all she has left
Needing only tenderness to keep
Her roof from caving in
Never saying what you mean
Because her life is strung up
From the ceiling by thin
Knotted strings
Each thread to be
Tread carefully as not to shake
The limb upon which the nest rests
You don't seem to know her anymore
The muted throat you knew
Before has learned to counter
Whilst still hiding from
The uneven voice that
Spurns justified unbelief
Beyond the sum of inability
To combat or rather to retreat from
Bigoted obscenities which do not
Quite fly overhead instead
They are spat with no discretion
And blatant direction
From cavities in prejudiced faces
Into the ears of one whose self
Is bottled up in a medicine cabinet
Next to the antidepressant
Falling into disrepair
And sinking deeper into despair
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
so if you could stop trying to treat my body like your own personal antidepressant, i would really appreciate it.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
your arms was a better
antidepressant than any
doctor can prescribe
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 3:42 AM UTC