I'm tired
I'm broken
Sick to my core
Why oh why
Did this happen once more
Confined scared
Alone with you in a room
Another piece broken
Hiding another scar
This can't be all there is
All they are
Tears on the floor
Who will clean them up
Invisible to the naked eye
A constant reminder
All I can ask is why
Why does this keep happening
What am I doing wrong
First I've had someone for me
Hadn't Let myself be open in so long
To have this happen how do I heal
Close my eyes and pretend it was never real.
At this point I have to ask, is therapy really working? I've been in therapy on and off since I was about 14 years old... maybe one or two years younger than that. That being said, I never really got much out of it in the teen years because let's face it, as a teen you really don't want to cooperate with any adult, let alone a "Shrink". I would go and talk about nothing of importance, pretending to sleep when it was my mother's turn to come in for the session with me. How this woman knew I wasn't sleeping was beyond me. I did what I was required to do and got my Doritos every time I went, so I was happy. Looking back at my first session, I can see the pattern that started even way back then. I have the hardest time finding competent therapists. Let me explain, from the moment I read an article in Teen Magazine about depression, I basically diagnosed myself. My being in therapy wasn't even the result of my mother thinking I had depression; it was bec...
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