I Wasn’t Sick Until They Told Me I Was

Verse 1:
I walked in scared, not broken—not yet,
Just shaking in places I hadn’t named regret.
They said, “You’re safe now. You’ve been through hell,”
Then labeled my silence like a product to sell.
Verse 2:
They gave me a folder with a barcode and a tag,
Said my sadness had shape, said my thoughts were a flag.
They smiled like saints while they checked off a list,
And turned my confusion into something they could twist.
Verse 3:
I wasn’t sick—not in the way they mean,
I was grieving. I was quiet. I was something in between.
But they needed a name, a reason to sedate,
So they diagnosed the ache and carved it into fate.
Chorus:
I wasn’t sick until they told me I was,
Until the diagnosis gave my sorrow a cause.
And now I take the pills just to play the part,
Of the patient they imagined when they charted my heart.
Verse 4:
I started to forget what I felt before,
Before they locked my name behind that file drawer.
Now every word I speak tastes pre-approved,
Like I’m playing a script I can’t remove.
Verse 5:
They asked if I still hear the voice inside,
And I said yes—because I had nothing else to hide.
But that was all they needed, all they required—
One “yes” and the treatments never expired.
Chorus:
I wasn’t sick until they gave me a name,
Until they labeled my hurt and blamed the flame.
Now I’m a number, a chart, a line they recite—
And I’ve started to wonder if they just might be right.
Bridge:
Sometimes I say I feel better just to see them smile,
Even when the truth’s been missing for a while.
Because it’s easier to fake than to break their plan,
Easier to swallow than to stand.
Verse 6:
So now I nod. I take the pills. I breathe on cue.
I speak in words I no longer choose.
Because maybe the lie becomes the skin…
When you’ve been told enough that it lives within.
Final Chorus:
I wasn’t sick until they told me I was—
But now I breathe diagnosis because.
So file me under “stabilized,” mark me “clear,”
And keep me medicated until I disappear.