Even today the struggle is real
when sometimes I don't see the difference
when sometimes I don't see the difference
between me and reality.
I shove a half dozen pills down my throat everyday
and while there are those who would say I'm
a walking pharmacy.
I would rather call it responsibility,
a way to keep myself out of a hospital, and
in my home.
What they don't see is that each pill has a
purpose
and without them my mind would slowly slip
away into a sea of psychosis
and as much as I loved watching Wendy walking
down the hospital halls
speaking aloud to no one but herself. . .
It's a place I'd rather not be, but if I have to be there, I will.
Sometimes I can't see how it affects me
today,
then there are times when I get a glimpse of
who I use to be.
It makes me want to turn the lights on and
remember that
a little bit of lithium goes a long way
towards recovery.
So when I see those around me who don't
suffer from this disease,
it becomes very clear to me that even
though I'm a broken individual
I don't need to be in the dark about it.
How could I even be a little bit ashamed of who I am when it's out of
my hands?
