Saturday, August 26, 2006

And in defiance...

On the Warning Label
I found myself this past year wandering through life in such a frustrating, disorganized way I was afraid I would get lost altogether.
So I listed my resources, circled the wagons, and went on medication.
After awhile, I could focus better and occasionally clean the bathroom while not feeling too guilty about how dirty it had gotten since the last time.
In the medicated time, a certain new clarity came to me, as if the medicine was a pair of psychological reading glasses.
I experienced breakthroughs, epiphanies, and even the rare moment of acceptance.

But the medicated time has passed, like all eras eventually do.
That clarity so enabled by the medicine has given way to confusion and forgetfulness as I try to leave the era behind.
As I move through this gradual withdrawal I wonder if it would be any worse than stopping abruptly - as my skin itches and my forehead expands with the need for this
Enslavement.
I don't see much point in drawing it out like this, in slowly denying my body this substance it has come to crave
But They all tell me it's for the best, this way.
I loved the clarity of medication and expected it to continue without each pill every day.
I feel cheated by Them, by the medicine, and by my own mind as I struggle to remember to put the clean, wet clothes in the dryer before they start to smell a little musty.
If I had known the horror of the end of the era, I may not have embarked down this path at all.

Honestly, I must admit that without this chemical interruption,
I might have failed in this altogether.

2 comments:

EatAnts said...

I fear the days you are experiencing, worried that all this "progress" won't be shot to hell when they start to taper things down. I hate the pills, but I hate them even more now...the first weeks of me not using alcohol to assist the damn things. The calmness is good, but the hypervigilence is not. Things are improving though, I went out to the bar the other night and talked to new people "unaided", another point for the Doc. I'm starting to lose the battle, but in a very good way. The path is definitely returning to me closer to my more fearless past, as long as I remember I'm not 18 anymore all will be great.

I think we share very similar paths, glad to get your "2 cents" earlier. Thank you. I'm here to chat anytime if you want another point of view.

Beth said...

I do appreciate your feedback. I thought I'd follow up on this now that I'm feeling a little more sane. The bad side effects of quitting the pills are getting better and I'm very grateful. I understand your fear - I was afraid, too. I kind of forgot that the transition into the medication was bad, too - just that I was already in a bad place, so it wasn't so obvious.

As I get farthur from chemical support, I find I am more grateful for taking that option. Sure, withdrawal has been very hard. But on the positive side, the pills got me off the slide into black depression hell I was flying down.

Congratulations on losing the battle. I know what you mean. I actually cried in my therapy session last week, instead of "masking my inner turmoil with sarcasm and fake acceptance." Or something like that, anyway.

Feel free to drop in anytime.