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Bandaids

by SilentVoices
written by SilentVoices

The medicine is like a bandaid.

After months of crawling in the metaphorical dirt, my physician got fed up and referred me to a psychiatrist. I didn’t fight it, I gave up.

I’ve given up for a while now. I’m in a mental limbo: I care… but I don’t.

How may times have I cycled through the mental healthcare system? I’ve lost count.

Have a crisis… see the Doc… meet the new Psych… get meds… ignore everything…. Have a crisis- again.

I thought I was doing well. I always think I’m doing well. The medication slaps a lid on my emotions, muffles the voices… for a while. But when the […]

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Remembering those who fight

by SilentVoices
written by SilentVoices

I remember the psychiatric wards.

I remember the ice cold floors in the morning, and walking barefoot to the unlockable bathrooms to take a piss. Rolling out of the beds in a drugged daze for the nurse to take my vitals.

”How are you feeling this morning?”

”Fine.”

I remember the series of emotions that flow through me as I process my situation again- for the 5th day in a row:

How long am I going to be here for?

Oh God, I can’t believe I’m (back) here. How the hell do I explain this to everyone? Am I crazy? Does anyone even know I’m in here?

This isn’t so bad, right? […]

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Her Timeline

by SilentVoices
written by SilentVoices

Before she was aware, she moved across seas. Of course she wasn’t aware, she was only 3.

By the age of 5, she knew something wasn’t right. Protecting her siblings while her parents fight.

From K to 12 she struggled without support. But even with uneducated parents, her grades were in good report.

Her home-life however, left much to Desire. Constant fighting and screaming and emotional fire.

At the tender age of 8, she would lie in bed, wishing she were dead.

Withdrawn and silent, she turned 14. Dragged to the psychiatrist for her mind to be seen.

Finally diagnosed with Severe Clinical Depression. She was given drugs, but to her […]

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Headache

by SilentVoices
written by SilentVoices

My head is pounding. Absolutely throbbing. I overslept and am late for work. I don’t want to leave my apartment and interact with others. It’s exhausting.

The stimulants I’m prescribed will get me up and going… But in about 2 hours, panic will set in like clockwork. Then another pill for anxiety to calm my nerves and put me to sleep.

There’s no happy medium.

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The Whispers

by SilentVoices
written by SilentVoices

Sometimes, you wonder where those whispers in your mind originate from.

These are not strange voices that I hear, nor do they frighten me. They are perhaps a hybrid between my thoughts and subconscious. But they are there. Not loud, but not so soft to just dismiss as thoughts. They are intrusive, and some days, relentless. The whispers sound… Familiar. Maybe they take on my own voice… Or at least what I think I sound like in my head.

Some days they are silly, commenting on little quirks throughout the day. I do not think of much them during such times. Other days, when I have fallen […]

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