Medicated

~Everyday I wake up and take my pills. I have to make sure I get my refills. Because these medications control my brain. They're just another indicator that I am insane. My mind almost killed me it put me in hospitility. They say your mind is powerful, they say it's your core. But my mind seems to be weak, it was made different from yours. See, I have disorders in my head. They caused the many tears that I have shed.

~One of them is depression. That's my big confession. They say they'll just add another pill. I say I'm sure you will.

~Along with my depression, I have many obsessions. It's my OCD. It holds me back from what I could be. Shoots the face of reality. I spend so much time trying to achieve perfection. I'm always making corrections. I feel like I need to be perfect and suffering is worth it.

~It opens the gates. The gates to self hate, and it's what I believe caused my BDD. My mind is foolish to let a disorder change what my eyes see. It causes me to despise myself and makes me want to be somebody else. My reflection gets dysmorphed, and what i see is gross. I guess I need a higher dose. I yell and slam my fist on the mirror boarder. I guess that's why it's called Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

~This causes me to see myself as obese. I eat and then I purge to release. No one would ever guess that I'm bulimic. The thought of it just makes me sick. It's not the only eating disorder there's two picks. They say the other one preys on you like a tick. I didn't believe that till I became anorexic. It's unfortunate that I picked both. Once you begin it feels as if you take an oath. You can't get out. The desire to be skinny is what it's about. You tell yourself there will be beauty from pain. But trust me it's not worth risking hitting a vein. All for a couple pounds that were gained. They give me some Symbalta for that but I still feel so fat.

~Anxiety disorder is the worst. The panic attacks make me feel like my heart is gonna burst. Anxiety makes me avoid everything. Stresses me with all the worries that it brings. Who ever thought a disorder could act like your king. A ruler that comands you to make cuts in your skin that burn and sting.

~I don't like admitting that I self harm. But I can't deny it because there's too much proof on my arms. I wish I could stop but it's like a drug. Endorphins give you a high with every cut that is dug. They say medications could help my addiction. But those doctors don't understand my affliction.

~They think all I need is to be medicated and il be recreated with no disorders. I don't want to take 9 pills a day but I gotta follow doctors orders. I wanna be recovered but not reformed by medications. I don't want to be a medical creation.

I guess for me to be happy there's a cost...

Feeling like the real me is lost...

Feeling like the real me is faded...

Because I am medicated.