They say I am crazy, They call me names, They say I go from one extreme to another, But what do they know. They give me more and more meds, They try to give me a reality, They try to make me “normal”, But do they know what normal is. They say I am truly happy, They say I am truly sad, They call manic in one breath and depressed in another, But do they truly know me because I surely don’t. I am one thing one minute and another something entirely different. Their answers are medications and therapies, They try to turn me into a zombie, a soulless person. What do they truly know about this disease?

Poetry Slam: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741