Undermedicated, or Why I’m Like a Thrift Store Chair

They’ve tried so many different pills on me, I can’t remember them all. Nothing really helps. One made me numb, one made me angry, one made me twitch and jitter like I had tourettes. This new medication keeps me from crying all day, but I do still cry. Every day, like clockwork, around 11:11. Sometimes I’ll be thinking of things, but I can just be sitting here doing nothing and the tears show up and I curl up in a ball.

Once upon a time I was a happy person. I was friendly, active, creative, and pretty. Now all I do is curl up in my chair. I don’t even sleep upstairs anymore. I sleep in my chair. When I sleep. The meds do help with that. Sometimes. If I take them at just the right time they do. It’s a magic moment somewhere between six and eight pm.

I have nothing to look forward to. I have no one to hold on to. So I sit in my chair. It’s not even comfortable, we found it on the side of the road almost a year ago, a recliner. It’s broken, I have a stool propping up the leg part. And it’s stained and ripped, I’ve covered in in a sheet. But it kind of reminds me of myself, or at least, my body. I used to be well, and pretty, and comfy in my skin. Now I’m broken and tattered and need to be hidden and propped up.

What is real and what is the bpd? I wonder that, all the time. Is my life this crappy, or does my brain just trick me into feeling the worst I can. I’m anxious, tired, depressed, aching and in pain, and all alone.

Did I love him, or did I just want to be loved by him?

The relationship was toxic, I realize that now. I don’t think it was really his fault, I think we were both messed up. But when I lost him, I felt like a huge part of me died. It isn’t even the relationship stuff, it is the friendship I miss the most. It was talking to someone who understood me even before I opened my mouth. It was toxic, and I miss it. I know a lot of that is my depression. I know I’m better off. But it still hurts just like the first day. It’s been six months and I’m medicated and it… still… hurts.

Thrift Store Chair by Everclear

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