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