A Little White Pill

A poem about panic attacks and Ativan by James Edgar Skye ❤

The Bipolar Writer

I wrote this very raw poem about Ativan but I never intended to actually let people read, but I was feeling rather good today so here it is.

A Little White Pill

A little white pill, it means the world.

When you fail to take it, it reminds you in the worst way.

I am reminded of this with a constant feeling of hopelessness.

Panic. Fear. Uneasiness.

It begins.

I can’t breathe or focus.

My mind races—thoughts.
Oh, so many thoughts.

Worst case scenarios playing out in my mind.

Will I survive? What will people think?

I can’t go out, I have to stay.

It’s safe here. Stay, just stay.

There is a whole world out there— no please stay.

My mind is winning.

I can’t do this. How can someone live like this?

The tightness in my chest seems to spin out of control.

—I can’t breathe.

Why is…

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