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.




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


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


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


depression has made me a ghost again




No Succor



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












I am not the butterfly

but the chrysalis

after the butterfly has emerged


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
i tell myself
you pathetic, weak bitch
you haven’t survived this long
to go down without a fight
the shore is nowhere in sight
how can i save myself
if i can’t see the land
i wish you were here
to pull me out of the waves
the reality is
you can’t save me
you’re not my life preserver
or my personal flotation device
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









Round and Round and Round It Goes. . . .

Things I have been thinking about, or rather, obsessing about, lately:

–Do things happen for a reason?
–Is there such a thing as synchronicity/serendipity?
–When was the last time a man told me he loved, and really meant it?
–Where is my “big love”?
–What is my purpose here?
–How do I get happy?
–How do I begin to live with no excuses and no regrets?
–Why does the universe bring me something I have been asking for, and then keep it at an arm’s length?
–Is love at first meeting possible?
–Where do I go from here?
–Why do I forgive people so easily?
–Or is it forgiveness, or do I make excuses for them and their behavior?

I have been trying so hard to get out of my head, because all of the thinking is driving me crazy. And with the thinking comes the feeling, and the feeling all of it is nearly destroying me. I have always been one to feel things too deeply, and I often wish I didn’t. I just want to get to the other side of this current chasm I am experiencing. Problem is, I’m just not sure how to climb out of it.

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