Ripping the Band Aid Off
Ripping the Band Aid Off poem stories
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mipoet
mipoetMy psychiatrist says he'd vote for me.
Autoplay OFF  •  8 months ago
Going back to work tomorrow. I hope that I don’t slip and fall, back in to old habits. Bad ones.

Ripping the Band Aid Off

Going back to work tomorrow.

I hope that I don’t slip and fall,

back in to old habits. Bad ones.

Habits like cutting on myself.

I think it’s been a couple weeks,

since I drew my own red blood.

The last time when I stressed,

because they’d sent an email,

threatening to discipline or fire me,

because of a doctors note.

One they knew that I had,

that I’d forgotten to turn in.

It was my mistake for sure,

but it was unnecessarily harsh,

when they knew where I was.

It was they who put me on leave.

It was their decision, not mine.

Yet I digress, that’s resolved.

Now I have to go to work,

and do my job again.

With the skills I’ve learned,

my time going through therapy.

Group was truly something.

It made me feel complete.

But this real world approaching.

It frightens me so greatly.

I will get up with my alarm,

and I will get in to uniform.

I’ll show up at work on time,

and I’ll be ready to start.

But I’ll be terrified.

The whole day, all day.

Then after I’ll have a drive,

and be off to my DBT.

I suppose that is good.

I can talk about my day.

Process reality again.

Rip the bandaid off.

That’s what I always say.

Regarding my job. Going back.

It comes off tomorrow.

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