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"trazadone" poems
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?
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Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 11:58 PM UTC
journal of a girl (crybaby)
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?
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6
Cicadas hum quietly, amongst the summer choir. Locked doors, birds on their wire's. Keep from harm's way, but thorted by desire- Blinds colored gray block out humanity. These dreams speak to me through insanity, a tv plays white noise, my mind is in calamity. As nightmares creep in through my eyelids, amid the darkness of this quiet house. This is my Strauss- wooden floors entirely silent, the thoughts inside are violent. Recalling Baptist Hospital. No cart rhythmically on call, a nurse alloting me two pearls to swallow. Making the sea of seretonin flow, making happiness through my body grow. Tonight, I take my trazadone no longer resembling a pearl, my toes curl. At the bitter taste, following the nightmares that make haste to follow me to bed, praying I don't wake up dead.
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Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
Lullaby
Sleep oh Sleep Take me away Trazadone dreams littered in dismay I'm frightened I'm trying to run away My feet won't move please oh please Take me away Vicious thoughts dance about I scream, I shout trapped I'll never get out © 2012 Christina Jackson
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Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
Never
Lexapro to be a pro At a mastering the status quo No one likes a Debbie Downer, Do you have to be so sour? Adderall not working anymore? Getting up is still a chore? Vyvanse might be what what you need. Anything to help me, please! Xanax for anxiety And so it works reliably Take it with hydroxyzine Trazadone to help you sleep Choke down a handful of these Won't matter the amount As long as it knocks you out Let's try this, let's try that Uh oh, looks like that one made you fat Once we finish with the vat We'll let you know how to get you back Shut up, shut up, shut up!! Can't you just grow up??! Brushed off, brushed off, brushed off A little something to take the edge off Maybe you should meditate But for now we're sending you upstate Medicated since 15? Have you tried a guillotine? Struggle, struggle, struggle Let's fit you for a muzzle Sit down, sit down, sit down You look just like a clown We heard you the first time Can't you ask without crying? This drama queen Can't get past what happened at 17 Crybaby if you ask me Did you even hear her speak? She's lost and can't be found Let's show some mercy Put this one down
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Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 10:28 AM UTC
Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx Rx