Updates: Media (lyrics) has a new layout. I could never figure out how to lay it out, but it's easier to navigate now. I'm still working on a better duplicate Mamblog mod. I'm trying to make submittions easier but the poetry form died for some reason. Quizzes are also on their way from the old site. Joomla content isn't very code friendly so I'm having to rewrite old code. You can still click on News > AH v21 > Screen if you wish to use the quizzes.
I can't sit still for two seconds without wanting to cut. I have to keep moving at all costs. So much is running through my mind that I can't sit still without it coming up.
Why do I cut? Because it's better than everything else. And no, it doesn't hurt. If I sit still for more than a minute, then the depression starts to set in...and I fall down again.
hatred waits inside the dark
waiting for a smart remark
looming there within the mind
full of anger sharp and blind
voices trigger hidden rage
turning over life's last page
hide the razors somewhere safe
deep inside a hidden safe
take the pills away from here
cover all the darkened mirrors
bury bones within the flesh
follow me to hatred's death.
Depression is that voice inside your head telling you there's nothing left-that you'll never be happy again. This voice has followed me along for years and I have only recently learned what it takes to conquer it. There are three very complex pieces to this puzzle. One is therapy. It's really not as bad as one might think. I would have rather die than go to therapy only months ago and there are some days even now where I would have been better off without one. At least this is what I tell myself. Two is of course (though not in all cases) the medicated kind of therapy which is at the beginning more trouble than it's worth. Side effects up the wazoo. I went through spatial problems, extreme drowsiness, shakes, and many other more minor side effects until I found one that worked for me. Now I've moved beyond that and it does nothing for me now. Two more days until that changes though. We'll just have to see what my doctor comes up with. And finally, the third thing, the hardest thing...
For the past hour I have wanted to cry (or rather been almost forced to tears). It has taken all my strength not to. I even had to stop playing games on the computer because I was having trouble focusing on them. I didn't want to stay here tonight--or ever. I just can't take the stress. The last hour has been consumed by a full-blown anxiety attack but in being here, I have not the tools to cut so I did not want to take my last two Ativan to help me sleep.
desperation, fleeting hope
relying on a tattered rope
emptiness, a place to hide
searching for a faster ride
feeling pain in every way
waiting for a better day
feeling no remorse for loss
throwing down a burning cross
staring at an empty grave
lost inside a darkened cave
searching for a guiding light
wishing for some strength to fight.
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