Hello Antidepressants

Source: nlm.nih.gov

Source: nlm.nih.gov

Hello Antidepressants.

It seems that my body has finally started getting the hang of you.

Your SNRI molecules are not proving to be half as nauseating as they used to be, and probably not half as painful. If only I were disciplined enough to always take you with the meal, but sadly my more emotional-self does not, cannot, wait long enough at times. Especially when it is getting out of control.

I am still not sure if I can properly work when I am under your influence, or even remain conscious while I am awake. Though I am supposed to be by now. Guess there is no option, but to keep on trying.

I am actually supposed to take you every day. But should I?

But do I want to be under your influence? Tricky question.

The answer is yes, and no.

I can’t say I can withstand the pain you cause, to put up with the debilitating brain zaps, but I can’t say if I want to give up the pleasure of numbness you offer along with it. I can’t say I don’t enjoy the altered electric sactivity disabling the more uncertain parts of myself.

Do I like what you are doing to my brain, and my body?

Again, yes and no.

But that’s why you are supposed to be medication.

I am glad I have a new friend.

I am not saying goodbye to you.

 

Hello Antidepressants.

It’s going to be a lifelong ride.

A Self-Inflicted Loss

Source: vector-eps.com

Source: vector-eps.com

It happened to me again.

All over again, deja vu. History repeating itself.

Just when I thought I had learned all my lessons. Just when I thought that it would never happen to me again, it just did.

No, it wasn’t an accident. Or maybe it was. But it was certainly my own doing. My own fault.

I shattered my world with my own hands.

I did this to myself. A self-inflicted wound.

A self-inflicted loss.

I am the architect of my own misery.

With false pride, anger, hubris, decadent complacency and impulsive misery,

I have broken the glass of my memories, while I could have saved it, while planning to save it, and nothing can put it back together now.

All I have now is regret. Regret, and false solace.

A suspended consciousness.

I’m helpless, longing for somebody to help me… though I know no one can.

At least somebody to reach out to. Though with never the right answers.

There is no right answer.

I’m helpless, but not regretting existence, or probably doing so.

I know nothing is more precious than life, and love of the loved ones.

Nothing is more important.

 

That’s what keeps you going, to let you fight another day.

To let you live another way.