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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() The grass is soft to sit on and the Japanese Maple tree in my front yard is providing shade to calm me. There is no traffic, and the clouds block the sun in such a perfect way that I think to myself: this would be the perfect place to die. The occasional bird seems to agree with me. I am not insane, I promise. I took my medication this morning. The little pink one was for the ADHD (it also helps a little with the anxiety) and the little off-white one with the pretty stripes was for the depression. I also popped one of my little green ones that I only need to take "as needed" because I believe that, for no particular reason, I will be more anxious than usual today (which makes me anxious just thinking about it). I also took vitamin D because my mom said I needed it. She also said I needed the gummy multivitamin, but the only reason I take them is because it's the closest I can come to having candy without feeling like my parents are judging my eating habits.
Even though I took my medication, she still thinks something's wrong, and she attributes it to the one morning over two months ago where I forgot to take my pills because I was running late to school. She is always trying to find a reason as to why I am the way I am. I tell her I am the way I am because "her God made me this way". She says that "all of God's creations are perfect", and I counter that argument with, "well then why all the pills? Why am I so imperfect that I need pills to make me perfect again? Can your God answer that?" She is silenced by my argument once again, as I march off to my room with frustration in my bones. I need time to think. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
November 2023
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