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Feb 28, 2011, 06:50 PM
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Member Since: Aug 2007
Location: Lily Pad, USA
Posts: 4,025
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Upon leaving my pdocs office this a.m., I found myself wondering, after all these years. . .
Have I finally learned the right answers to the questions
or
Has he finally learned how to ask the questions
Were I to mention my feelings, promises would have to be made. If I voiced my pain, treatment options or hospitalization would have to be discussed. Instead my prescriptions were refilled, my next month’s appointment made and nothing has changed.
Here I am, living in a vacuum of nothingness surrounded by sadness and worthlessness. Hoping my sobs and tears will wash away the sorrow that has become a part of my being. Thoughts racing, books filled with drawings, writing, words, ideas. Often staring endlessly, totally oblivious to the passage of time.
Evenings can't come fast enough, taking pills to find the peace of sleep. Mornings I waken wondering why another day. To mask the pain of living pills are taken throughout the day.
Always the same never ending cycle.
Why bother
 kebs
__________________
 kebs
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