November 8, 2011
By Anonymous

I was 3,
when I was told there's something wrong with me.
My temper tantrums are too extreme,
my crying to insane.
My childhood was spent in doctors offices.
They kept saying there was no cure,
so my parents chose another.
I spent hours being analyzed,
studied like a specimen.
They asked me how I felt,
but nobody really cared.
They gave me medication,
so I wouldn't cause trouble.
They kept telling me I was wrong,
that I was the problem.
My parents split.
My family fell apart,
all this because of me.
I was only a child.
I didn't understand what mental illness was.
The doctors don't have a cure.
My brain can't be fixed.

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