What you see is an illusion
Something you think is real
You can guess
You can speculate
You can only guess how I truly feel
You may catch a glimpse
I will always throw doubt
But I'm always straight forward
If you can figure me out
Within every lie
Something may actually be true
All of it is
All doesn't pertain to you
I tell stories you see
Past present future intertwined
I cannot let you see
What is in this heart of mine
But if you know
If you can tell I'm talking to you
Maybe this illusion
Is actually true.
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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