2012-07-03_0223_hdr-edit-edit  Pacing on the outskirts
Holding my mind in my hand
What have they done to me
Who am I
Tiny round pills
Circumvent my personality
Large white capsules
Wipe the smile from my face
The red ones
Oh the red ones
Take a pull from my soul
Yet I appear together
I fit the mold
Let’s ignore the effects
Let’s pretend I am fixed
Let me throw back a few more
So I’ll feel even better
After all come sunrise, come sunset
Medicine rules my world
Sanity depends on it

123 RV, SA, RW, JW, PA



3 thoughts on “Fanatical

  1. So honest, and so familiar…thus, so sad. Great poem about a very complex situation. To med me or not med me? I have struggled since I was thirty-six with finding the right meds or none or some, whatever. Made it to 36 years-old on my own serotonin, what happened? For me, a huge trauma triggered emotional issues that I had managed on my own until then. I had always fought depression, but it went from manageable to not manageable in just a few months. I miss the woman I was before I needed anti-depressants and anxiety medicine, but I don’t miss the OCD that I always thought was normal behavior or the crippling anxiety attacks that kept me from working or sometimes even from leaving the house. I was in first grade when that started, but in those years nobody knew what it was, my fears had no name. The fears and the depression still show their nasty, mean faces now and then, but they are so much milder because of meds. I have been consistently sober since I was 26 (excepting one very bad night in my tenth year) and I’m sixty now. It has been an incredible journey. I even had the “pink cloud” last for my first five years. My sobriety is such a huge blessing. The worst day can still be considered still a good day when I am sober.
    I enjoy your writing and your honesty. I like the way you discuss the ups and downs of sobriety and mental health and how strongly your thoughts comes across the pages. Jeanne Marie

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