Wednesday, December 1, 2010


I hate you.

I hate everything about you.

I hate what you do to me.

I hate this dependence.

I hate the way that you leer back at me every morning.

The way that you so patiently stare back at me through your blue and white gelatin-based capsules.

The way that you taunt me; both of us knowing well in advance the inevitable outcome of the fight that I start with myself every time that I open your notoriously orange container.

I hate the fact that I can't do this without you.

The fact that I can't do this on my own.

The fact that I have so little control over my own mind that I can not get get a grip on this reality of mine long enough to function productively in society.

The fact that my consciousness is so unimpressed by the world around it that it must remove all sensory intake filters in an effort to quench its insatiable thirst for information.

I hate you.

I want nothing more than to dash your translucent plastic skull against the sharpest of stones and crush the shattered remnants under my feet, scattering your powdered entrails across this forsaken ground.

The notion sends waves of anticipatory pleasure down my spinal column.

But...I will not do that.

I can not do that.

I hate you.

But I was worthless without you.


  1. I felt the same way when I was on medication for my anxiety. I hated what it did to me. It made me feel better, but if I would skip a day on accident, I would be a completely different person. Every little thing would piss me off. I hated that feeling because it made me very unpleasant to be around. I eventually stopped taking it and got better on my own. I hate medication.

  2. I don't know what I want to say.

    I hadn't really considered it when I clicked the comment link.

    As I read through this, with my ever-lingering tower of medications sitting by me to my right in the cubby below my random assortment of prosthetics, I began to cry. I say it took me at least fifteen minutes to read through this post, all due to five lines which froze me in my scrolling track.

    I'm shaking as I type this, constantly torturing the backspace key with my ring finger as I fail to type correctly. I am mess this way. With these six prescriptions,I am still a mess. I wonder how worthless I would be without them, how quickly my heart would fail. How quickly I would lose my mind.

    I miss you as I read this. Through most of your posts that I read, I have the incredible sensation to hold you. To at least feel like I can help you be okay, if I just hold you. Just for a minute. But this one is different. This one makes me wish for you to hold me; stop my shaking and tell me to breathe. I could use that during times like this. But I don't have that during times like this. And so I turn to my SSRI's. Pick one. And swallow.

    1. It is a terrible feeling, this requirement of medication. But...I suppose that there is nothing to be done, really. Just an unfortunate reality that must be faced; a limitation that must be...embraced.