Almost Famous
Days
Weeks
Months
Run together
Viscous coagulation
Nothing about me
Or my life
Feels special anymore
Even 15 minutes of fame
Was always too much to ask for
Fat Bottom Girl Said What
When my ass talks, people listen.
Archive for the tag “depression”
Misery Is Terrible Company
When the pain becomes too great
and all of the old vices fail to satisfy
and you’re silently screaming for help
but it falls on deaf ears
and all the fat people are now
thinner than you
and you’re an obese cow
who no one ever wanted to buy
because you always gave the milk for free
and what that means is you’re a slut
and you’ve been used and discarded
and you’ve forgotten how to put
one foot in front of the other
so you try to talk the talk
until you can walk the walk
but you fail miserably and trip
and fall on your face
but who cares
because your front teeth had a big gap between them anyway
and you have no outer beauty left
but it was only a disguise for your inner beauty
which has now also abandoned you
and misery is your only companion
and loneliness dances in the shadows
to a tune of your own composing
Crazy Cocktails and Their Side Effects
A few days ago I cried uncle to the anxiety (with an undercoating of PTSD), which has plagued me for quite some time, and made an appointment to see my doctor. I had recently talked to a few people about their struggles with anxiety, and the meds they take to help deal with it. I don’t like medications, because I seem to be ultra-sensitive to some of them, plus most of them can exacerbate the exact thing we’re trying to get rid of, and that just makes no damn sense whatsoever.
My doctor knows I don’t like to take pills, and often has to convince me to try them, so when we sat down to talk on Monday, and I broke down in tears over my inability to deal with this fucking anxiety, he suggested Lexapro, an SSRI-anti-depressant, which is also supposed to have anti-anxiety properties.
I suggested Ativan, which he isn’t particularly fond of, but I had to admit to him that a friend had given me one to try during an anxiety attack, and it helped calm me down within 20-30 minutes. And seriously, if you have anxiety, you know what blissful relief a reprieve from torturous cyclical thinking can be.
Needless to say, we compromised: he would give me the Ativan for “as needed” situations, and I would try the Lexapro for a long term solution.
Now mind you, the last time I took an anti-depressant, it was something called Pristiq, which I had to stop taking because of the ridiculous cost of it, and I almost slit my wrists when I was trying to wean myself off of it. I literally locked myself in my bathroom, and called my mom to come over and talk me off the fucking ledge, because of that shit. That’s when I said, “NO MORE!”. Didn’t matter what came up, I would plow through depression without a pill, because I was never going to subject myself to worse depression from an anti-depressant.
Fast forward to 5 years later and two doses of Lexapro got me looking like the town meth whore with some damn teeth grinding and jaw clenching and my inability to keep my damn tongue still in my mouth.
What. The. Fuck. *Google Lexapro and teeth grinding*
Sure enough, the meth mouth shuffle is one of the side effects of Lexapro. So doc, I tried, but I’m not doing this shit. I’m not going to keep walking around doing this, grinding my teeth down to stumps and giving myself migraines, in the hopes that the side effects will wear off. If this is what happens after two doses, I don’t want to see what happens after a third, or a fourth.
At least I still have the Ativan to calm my brain, even if it doesn’t help stop looking like the town meth whore.
Whitewash
It all comes back to black
the color of rot and death
and a murder of crows
and of my insides
since I came across you
I want so much to shed the cloak of it
and experience other colors again
like red
the red of your blood
flowing from your nose
as my fist connects with it
gushing from your head
as the perfectly timed swing of my bat unites with your thick skull
dropping a trail from your bottom lip
as the back of my hand meets your lying mouth
but still
the red cannot compete with the black
so I wait for a source of light
to wash over me
and dilute it
and make it gray
Permeation
the same way the sun gets in
the gloom gets in too
but sunshine only sinks into your skin
the darkness permeates
it lodges in the sinew
the bone
drilling into the marrow
where it seeks a permanent home
once it visits
it’s loathe to leave
and even if you manage to kick it out
it always finds a way back in
Specter of Self
I doubt my existence in this life
everything is rote
monotonous
I’m unsure how I get to work
I sniff my armpit to make sure I put my deodorant on
food tastes bland and boring
my breathing is shallow
my blood feels like syrup in my veins
my hands have no grip
and I can’t feel the bottoms of my feet
color blind
I see nothing but various shades of gray
I am not among the living
diaphanous
depression has made me a ghost again
No Succor
Photo Credit: alicewilkinsonphotography.com
leaves, void of chlorophyll,
scratch along the ground,
blown by a ceaseless howling wind,
which echoes the sounds of my soul
naked rose hips, petals long discarded,
scrape against the weathered wood of the fence,
clawing at it, like the hounds of hell
knocking at my door trying to gain entry
why do you hunt me?
constantly searching for the shell I have become
even camped in the depths of despair,
you persist in driving me further down
into the abyss
I’m lost forever to your darkness
Pupa
I am not the butterfly
but the chrysalis
after the butterfly has emerged
empty
void of feelings
the beauty contained within has flown away
leaving nothing but a shell
which dances in the breezes of life
Water Safety
the water is closing in
but i keep flailing my arms
i try to will my legs to move
try to remind myself
that there are people who need me
i must fight to stay afloat
swim
i tell myself
swim
you pathetic, weak bitch
you haven’t survived this long
to go down without a fight
but
the shore is nowhere in sight
how can i save myself
if i can’t see the land
and
i wish you were here
to pull me out of the waves
but
the reality is
you can’t save me
you’re not my life preserver
or my personal flotation device
and
your own boat
threatens to capsize in stormy seas
*Originally posted on The Fat Bottom Bard
The Theory of Disease
apathy has settled in my heart
and in my bones
like a rare form of cancer
it eats at every cell of my being
it burrows into my marrow
consuming all I believed to be good
about you
about me
about the world
indifference is a sheath for my feelings
numbing any twinges of caring
but never halting the progression of my sickness
it will eat me up from the inside and leave nothing
but a shell
it was you
and you
and you
and even you
who gave me this disease
who left me with these symptoms
indicative of a greater malady
which left untreated
can bring about
the downfall of society
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 