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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I relaxed on the couch to feel at ease, the psychiatrist sat across from me. This wasn’t any normal physician- He was my subconscious personified. A flow of panic surged through my body- Beads of sweat slowly trailed down my face- My heart began beating erratically- My eyes darted in search of an exit- There wasn’t an exit available! The sense of fear was running down my spine, I’m trapped within the walls of my own mind taunted by the horrors that lie within. The psychiatrist peered through my file his eyes scrutinized every incident. I coughed to break the silence in the room, but it still constricted the atmosphere. He initiated conversation: a trivial attempt to gain rapport. We discussed my past and current events. Each story was surgically dissected; it was torture being under the knife. I was wide awake through the incisions; helpless against the tools of a madman. I grimaced through the pain of memories- I opened old wounds then they were sown shut- I’m plagued by a beast that lingers inside- I need to run before I’m devoured! My inner turmoil came to a close; he arrived at a clear diagnosis. He noted the cycling mood changes: a constant battle between highs and lows. The faulty sense of attachment issues bred in from a childhood beginning. Sporadic moments of self-destruction; accompanied by parties and drinking. The guilt from burning bridges to loved ones constructed my imposed wall to the world. He told me he understands my poems and the theme behind each one I wrote. From the introspection, private musings love, temptations and whimsical humor; it’s a way to channel my redemption to add a purpose to this unhinged life. The meeting was officially over. I unraveled a new revelation: I’m a continual work in progress finding my road to a recovery.
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