Manic Depression

And so the reality is here - you're one of those people, dependent on meds,
reflecting on the last appointment - everything that you said,
hoping that another hold won't lead to commitment,
and watching what you say during therapy treatment,
is this what you have to look forward to? jumping through hoops?
and outpatient sessions with strangers in groups?
you look all around, your head hurts, there's a lot heard,
and feel out of place - this kind of sharing is beyond awkward,
from the facilitator comes the question, why did you use dope?
you search for the best way to say the pain was deep,
outside undemonstrative, crying quietly inside as you make your confessions,
and trying to glean lessons from these sessions for manic-depression,
supposedly the facilitators are just like you,
but you can't help but question what they have been through,
if they've been on the streets and did things that they regretted,
or floundered with no direction, uncertain of where they were headed,
this reality, now, such a burden to bear,
with preponderance, sometimes, is it worth it to care?
if you dared, with the courage, find some way to end this plight,
you would be challenged of your right to take the fatal flight,
but the highs and the lows, and simultaneous episodes,
are eating you alive from inside, how could they possibly know?
they'll never truly understand how much you just want it to end,
and checking out of this hotel won't make you any less a friend.