By Brandon Koebernik | Featured Contributor
My medication is wearing off,
It’s no longer protecting me.
My demons begin to scoff,
As I try to make a plea.
They found a way through,
The chemicals weren’t strong enough.
I’m lost without a clue,
How am I supposed to rebuff?
I thought they were working,
Yet I find myself back at square one.
I can see my demons smirking,
As they think I’m nearly done.
I’m partly depressed, partly manic.
I’m bursting at the seams.
I can’t help but to panic,
When the demons flood my dreams.
I’m tired of being beaten down,
I’m tired of feeling defeated.
I feel like I’m about to drown,
As my mind has been mistreated.
My mind is fragmented and shattered,
I’m left picking up the pieces.
Not that it actually mattered,
As the demon’s torment increases.
No shame to say it,
I’m struggling to write.
But I refuse to quit,
I’ll give it all my might.
One day at a time,
That’s my motto.
It’s a constant climb,
But healing will follow.
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If you are currently depressed or thinking about death or dying, please reach out to a friend or a loved one immediately. If anonymity is important to you, consider using one of the helplines below right now:
Mental Health National Helpline
1-800-662-HELP (4357)
Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255
If you would like your poetry to be considered for publication on PhoebeMD.com, visit here for information regarding submissions.
Categories: All Poetry, Featured Authors, Featured Poetry
Life is hard for so many!
Keep writing!! My mother was bipolar and never really talked about it. Unfortunately she wasn’t medicated until she was 50 and had a complete psychotic break and was hospitalized for the first time. As her child it was a very confusing time because I never knew she was mentally ill. Thank you for writing about your experience. You never know who it will help. The more put out there, the more people’s minds will be changed. I long for the day when taking medicine and going to counseling for mental health is as normalized as taking insulin and having regular check ups. If my mother had seen her mental illness as an illness and had been able to understand and apologize for verbally abusing me when she was manic, it might have saved me from having to do therapy as an adult. Fortunately, therapy and healing work do work.
My best wishes to you 👍.