Medicated
I open my eyes
And my heart sinks.
It’s morning.
The never-long-enough
Escape of sleep
Is over
I have to face
An entire day
Before I can lose myself in
it
Once more.
Already in my semi-awake state
My brain teems with worries
and fears
So many pressing in on me
I don’t know which to tackle
first.
I know I'm supposed to
'let the feelings simply be
there,
occupying their own space
Without being sucked into
Their whirlpools;
Without engaging'.
I know I must not avoid,
Ignore, suppress or run
from them
But simply observe
With a passive watchful
gaze
Letting them float
Across my consciousness
Like clouds in the sky,
Remembering
That no matter what I do
They cannot harm me
And will pass by
In their own time.
But these are angry storm
clouds
Dark and ominous
Shadowing my world
Threatening a downpour
At any second.
How can I just do nothing,
Letting them consume me?
I must find my umbrella
My jacket, my boots.
I lie in bed
Fighting with anorexia
Telling me how lazy I am
If I don't get up right now
Yet longing to succumb
To depression’s softer
voice
Urging me to burrow back
Under the refuge of the
covers
And escape the storm.
As usual,
Anorexia wins.
I swing my legs
Over the side of the bed
And sit for a moment
Waiting for the spinning in
my head
To slow enough
To allow me to stand.
I reach for the small jar
of pills
On my bedside table
There is no longer any
hesitation or shame
But simply desperation
For any slight degree of
relief
A craving
For the dullness they bring
To the sharp edges
Of my panic.
I swallow them down
And consider taking an
extra -
Just one.
As anorexia fills my head
With her raspy insistent
demands -
Thoughts of breakfast,
Of ways I can burn off
A few more calories than
yesterday,
And reminders
Of the utter failure that I
am -
I tip another tablet into
my trembling palm.
I consider the small round pill
For just a moment
Before swallowing it
quickly
Already eagerly
anticipating
The blessed detached numbness
It will bring.
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