As part of my therapy and dealing with depression, my therapist recommended that I chronicle my day to day dealings with mental health. In doing so, I started a series of poems detailing the inner turmoil I experienced on the road to Peace.
This is Day 1.
Today i wrestled with the notion that my mind is my own worst enemy.
I’ve told all my secrets, even gone so far as to bargain with them.
Anything to cease these torturous ramblings of moments past and futures born of an overworked psyche.
Surely something must give.
Tempted by tantalizing tablets foretelling the end of this torment
Just to be replaced with a new one.
How much more faith shall I place in hypnotizing hypotheses and otherworldly omnipotent beings?
I suppose prayer still works.
At least I hope it does.