Electriconvulsive Treatment or The ECT Beast
Written by an author that has many ECT Treatments, this poem reflects the feelings of before and after. Questions and answers
THE ECT BEAST
"It" Will Kill You If You Don't Kill "It" First
You said if I hung on until morning I would be all right
Morning is here and I am not all right...you lied to me!
Though I did make it through the night...a cruel fight
No one knows, no one's told, till now...
ECT Counts
The treatments will make your head bounce
The longer you linger the more brain cells drop out
Radical treatment for the illness depression
A chemical imbalance that prefers to flirt then work
Quick fix? Hopefully. No one knows for sure
This disease I call "The Beast"
If you have not gone to write your will down
You have not meant the Beast
Keep quiet, keep still
Got to know "Its" will
"Things Will Get Better"
"Praise Him in the Storm"
"Then your depression will turn lukewarm"
DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?
Good deeds and prayers do not scare the Beast away
Happy, happy will not make me better by next week Wednesday
Only an ignorant person would think this way
This disease is not a cold that comes and goes
This disease grows roots in your very soul
You become less able and more impaired
In need of care
It is not fair
"It" Will Kill You If You Don't Kill "It" First
You said if I hung on until morning I would be all right
Morning is here and I am not all right...you lied to me!
Though I did make it through the night...a cruel fight
No one knows, no one's told, till now...
ECT Counts
The treatments will make your head bounce
The longer you linger the more brain cells drop out
Radical treatment for the illness depression
A chemical imbalance that prefers to flirt then work
Quick fix? Hopefully. No one knows for sure
This disease I call "The Beast"
If you have not gone to write your will down
You have not meant the Beast
Keep quiet, keep still
Got to know "Its" will
"Things Will Get Better"
"Praise Him in the Storm"
"Then your depression will turn lukewarm"
DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?
Good deeds and prayers do not scare the Beast away
Happy, happy will not make me better by next week Wednesday
Only an ignorant person would think this way
This disease is not a cold that comes and goes
This disease grows roots in your very soul
You become less able and more impaired
In need of care
It is not fair
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