Something different for my blog post this week since I missed last week again…

I read this for poetry night at my therapists office last week.

It’s called Control…

This turbulence seems to have subsided for now

And I don’t know what to do

I should be content

I should be happy

But these feelings are foreign to me

And the silence makes me uneasy.

I just know how much noise can be produced by my mind

And when it’s quiet

It makes me feel like they’re up to something big

Like it can’t be trusted

Because any time I put my faith in the silence,

It comes back to haunt me.

The voices will get so bad that I can’t tell what’s me and what’s them.

The voices will get so bad that they turn into delusions.

The voices will get so bad that I don’t know how to cope.

But they’ve calmed down at the moment.

I can’t tell if it’s my disorder

Or my medicine is actually helping

But this muffled noise is a fraction of what I normally hear

I’m waiting

Waiting for the ball to drop

And the chaos to reappear

It’s just around the corner

I can feel them

Waiting for me to slip up

Waiting for the medication to stop working 

Waiting for me to miss a dose

I should be joyful at their disappearance.

But it only brings me fear

Fear of the unknown

A distrust of the self

I could be drowning at any moment.

My brain has started to work again

But when will the voices hinder my growth again

When will they throw a wrench in my spokes and send me over the handlebars?

It’s scary.

The voices control my livelihood 

And when they’re gone I feel like a shell of myself.

I feel lost with and without them

I feel glad mad and sad all at once.

I feel afraid that they’ll surface and take the wheel again

When will I have control?