The Problem

(Pamela Belitch)

On Mental Illness of loved ones and struggling with whether to confront the stigma

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VERSE 1 Yes, it’s true, you’ve stabbed me in the back. More times than you’ll ever know. That’s what she’d say like every other week. Right before we drifted off to sleep. And no matter how loud she screamed at me, I have to say I always felt sorry For her and her philosophy Of yes, it’s true, life sucks and then you die. Wonder if she really believed that lie. All of her true feelings she locked inside. So no one ever knew the reasons why She thought the whole world hated her. She sang, “I might as well go eat worms.” No, not one thing she would confide In not one person, she’d just push them all aside. Pushed them all aside, side, side side, side. CHORUS She doesn’t need to sink Money into a shrink To tell her she’s got something wrong That she’s done something wrong She don’t think there’s one thing wrong With her. She doesn’t need to tell A friend what she thinks of herself. She knows what the problem is. It’s something that No one can fix. And doctor’s are just pricks, anyway. VERSE 2 Now every day is the same old routine. She’s got an attitude, she’s bitter and she’s mean. And every now and then, she says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, but you know how I can be. I just get so angry sometimes. Don’t see how letting off steam is a crime. You’d be the same way if you felt like I do.” She doesn’t know that that’s simply not the truth. She doesn’t know that I get angry just like her. She doesn’t know that thanks to her, I fear my world. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Her personality’s taking over me. Her paranoia is bringing me down. With her lack of confidence, I can’t turn my life around. Doesn’t she know we could turn our lives around? Turn our lives around, round, round, round, round. CHORUS VERSE 3 Most days we’d just pretend That we’re happy as can be. It doesn’t hurt to hide the pain constantly. It only hurts feeling forced to deny That I’ve got feelings that I’m keeping locked inside. I only wish that she would provide Me with some understanding ‘Stead of clinging to her pride. I’ve got nobody In whom I can confide. I’d never let her in. She’d never think I’m right. She’d make me take her side. Her pride is her plight. Her pride is her plight. Plight. Plight. Plight. Plight. CHORUS She doesn’t need to sink Money into a shrink To tell her she’s got something wrong That she’s done something wrong She don’t think there’s one thing wrong With her. She doesn’t need to tell A friend what she thinks of herself. She knows what the problem is. It’s something that no one can fix. No one can fix. No one can fix. Fix. And doctors are just pricks, anyway.

© Pamela Belitch 2019

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