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Anasazi- Manic Depression

"How manic depression (now known as bipolar disorder) and drinking affects a young child..."

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***I want to add something, as an edit, because it has been brought to my attention by a friend on here that this prose-poem could be taken badly. I do not mean, at all that people with manic depression (bipolar disorder) are bad people or should be held accountable for, or punished for, their actions while off meds. I realize it is not their fault. The child in this prose-poem, however, is in the five to ten age range (I haven't figured out exactly the age) and all she knows is that her mother is being vicious to her when off the medicine, rarely kind, and kind when on it. She doesn't know what is wrong with her mother, she doesn't really care at this age, all she knows is she doesn't want to be hurt by the person who is supposed to love her. I'm sorry if it was taken badly by any of you before I put this up here, I apologize from the bottom of my heart- that is not what I mean, ever, when I write these things. Love you all and thank you for your comments and support of my writing. :)***

It's 3 in the morning:

I finally hear you say,

"I'm sorry about the way,

I treated you today."

I look you in the face,

just in case...

just in case it's a trick,

and your hand's about to come down

on me to prove it.

But that's not the case,

you're in your good mood-

or, your better mood,

and you hug me and tell me,

"Hug me back, sweetie."

You smell like alcohol,

bittersweet.

Hugs show that I forgive you.

I don't forgive you,

I never forgive you-

and never will-

But I hug you because if I don't-

you'll go back to your dark place,

and I'll hide.

---

I'm hiding,

see me? 

I'm scared,

but you don't care.

All you want is to beat on something,

So you won't go back down there:

To that place,

you know what it's called,

don't you?

You know how to treat it too,

those pills-

those pills you don't take,

saying they do nothing,

but they do everything,

don't they?

They numb you,

and you don't want that-

you want to feel!

What about me?!

What about me?!

What about what I want?

I want to live,

Mother-

and your manic depression 

is changing that.

Published 
Written by Colors_of_the_Wind
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