a Jeremiad of a Constant Plague, Tourettes Syndrome

It follows,
The silent, dark shadows
Of its constance
I cannot drive it from my mind.

For it is within!
A shadow on my soul,
For the monster dwells therein.
It makes my body do such things
That others shall never understand.

I wish with all my body,
With all my being
That it should go,
Never to return
And haunt me again.

What shall drive it on?
I cannot say, nor express
The wish for it to go.

This thing,
This problem,
It controls my every breath,
Haunts my soul.

What would you do
If something else controlled the physical actions
Of your body?
How would you stay sane?
Would you stand in sadness
As the sun rose again?

Or praise heaven that
You were still alive?

Or would you do both?
I have to choose,
For I walk the path of tears.
That will not leave me,
Whether I want it to
Or not.
........
Sorry, but I didn't just need to write this, I had to. Comments on the situation or the prompt/ideas and of course, the poem itself are welcomed. Thankyou.
Cheers!
--Vox, the girl with a heart of melted rocks