Exhaustion, depression, anxiety,  tribulation, indignation and preoccupation is my current state.

For I cower at the thought that I don’t know  how much more my soul can take.

Strong, resilient, vivacious was I.

Now, transformed into a defeated faux pas.

How long will this semblance persist?

Every breath I take makes me not want to exist.

My body is distressed, it’s toilsome to move.

My mind  is wearisome and incompetent, not seeming to improve.

I’m so tired  from insufficient sleep that if I can’t attain proper slumber,  I fear what will ensue.

When will this cease,  when will I ameliorate, when will I no longer be a woman that I hate.

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