my mother insists that my poems on schizophrenia can truly open peoples minds to the illness and what having it is really like. so here we go, another schizophrenia poem.
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it’s difficult to care when your own mind is your enemy
trying to see through the paranoia, the hallucinations, the anxiety

when medications don’t work you do things you shouldn’t have
just trying to rid these fears anyway you can

you feel like a whore selling your body for money
only your selling it for drugs to bring temporary relief

the hallucinations shout, scream and cuss at you
all the negativity directed at you makes it tough to not have a “fuck you” attitude

paranoia hits so hard you don’t have anyone to trust
and you feel like a coward, afraid of your reality in disgust

and you better be born with a good brain in your head
otherwise this illness puts you in prison, on the streets, or dead

misc. entry about what schizophrenia does to a person.

i threw my life away running from the terror. i never planned it. this person i am now? yeah, i didn't plan this.

but the insults from thin air start to tare a person down after a while. the paranoia driving me scared shitless up the wall slowly ripped out my spine.

never alone. ever. if it’s not paranoid cameras watching me 24/7, it’s the voices that can come into play at any time.

can never get a vacation from my own mind.

quick note

i will get this blog going soon, i haven't forgot. i'm just busy doing ten million different things in my life right now so it might take some time. still, i'll get to it :) -Nicholas P. Wilde 2016/03/06