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Home›Creativity›To Whom Have I Become (Part 2)

To Whom Have I Become (Part 2)

By Sean Stevens
June 1, 2020
2003
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Mental Health
Image by Tumisu from Pixabay

Where were you the first time you realized there was a problem? A problem so big you couldn’t wrap your head around it? I can tell you where I was, 3,000 miles away driving away from ghosts.

The first time I was 20 years old, the second 39 years old. Where was I heading, you might ask? No clue! I was driving to drive, running to run, hiding to hide. I never knew from what! I just knew I had to leave within a moment. No planning, no thought process, just leave. In both moments I was convinced I was going to die before the journey ended. I was stuck in my own mind with no way out. I broke off all communication with family and friends. I didn’t want them to see me in my current state. Who thinks like that? Moreover, who acts upon that? Well, me, I guess.

Now if I told you I’d be around to write this to you today I’d be lying. The first time worked well as I was able to regroup and get my shit back together. The second I ended up in a psychiatry unit for some time. Clinical depression, they called it; but damn they were wrong. But the medicine I refused for so long worked. WHY DID IT HAVE TO WORK?!

For most of this life a fog of incense,

Seeing with blindness

Walking, pretend

Stigma awaits me, how could this be

A leper of past, now within me!

Some know me as crazy, mind full of sickness

Cursed for eternal, mental health victim.

This journey takes courage, strength to admit

That help was right there, now to submit.

Chivalry, pardon

With all due respect, no place for this notion,

Thus I’ll be direct!

I am the status, all that should count

I am the thoughts that weigh on your soul

With knowing that I can carry, enslave,

Each moment of breath, each second of days.

Will you now acknowledge, heed my last warning?

You’ve taken too long, our mind now exploring.

Waves of destruction, countless in ways,

Final thoughts written, page after page!

You can keep moving on, hoping I’ll leave

Pour ounces of liquor, to pounce into dreams.

Only to wake…

I have laid still

Beside you in bed

A sight to instill

Fear now returns, you can not escape!

For I skilled to hunt, you merely prey

Now to your knees,

Be gone to these games,

Open your mouth,

What awaits you my pain!

Tilt your head back as this shall be quick,

Close your eyes slowly, It’s over, you’re sick!

Speak your last sentence, Hymn your last prayer

For years isolation

Yet the moment is now here!

Please do forgive me, this only could be

Goodbye now to all

It’s time for our sleep

Submitting to this I swallow last breath,

Mental health wasted,

Now the sound echoes wrench.

How can I help you?

Miss, I am in trouble!

Gently this woman grasps my hand.

Come to me, son,

Yet don’t be afraid.

Lay out your tongue,

Prescription escape!

To be continued…

TagsloveRelationshipswritingMemoriesPoemshort storycreativityhealthculturecreative writingAnxietypoetryStresslifestyleChangeCoffee House WritersDepression
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Sean Stevens

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