dull headache, upset stomach. those are the two symptoms she told me I would experience when she prescribed me my new antideppreseant. the first thing I could think of was how it didn’t phase me. how my head already aches from you running sprints around my prefrontal cortex. the aching that follows a night out after drinking away every good memory we ever had. the same dull headache that accompanies the heart you left shattered on your bedroom floor. And the upset stomach, the one I’ve been fighting away for years that snuck its way back as I filed court documents for months on end. its like as if she was repeating the symptoms you have already so graciously provided me free of charge. only this time, my biology is altered. only this time, my rather than my bloodstream boiling, there are stimulants streaming throughout it.

I traded you for happy pills. and yet somehow, your sprinting has not stopped. I use you as an excuse for my unhappiness, my failures, my discontentment. I use the headache and the stomach ache you have created as a reason for my situation and the lack of progress I have made within it. And when people ask me how I’m doing- I respond by saying I am medicated. that I cannot make it through each day without a little extra boost, a little extra happy.

you took so much away from me: my pride, my happiness, my sense of self. But now, it has come to the point that you have taken away who I actually was. you have changed my ability to wake up in the morning without a little extra help. as I was sitting in the doctors office this morning explaining everything that has happened in the last few months, she used the word trauma and victim. she explained to me that I have been through hell and that I deserve so much better and medication will aid in helping me find who I once was. when I introduced myself in class, we had to share a fun fact and the only thing that came to mind were those words. you have changed how I see myself in the mirror and how I think other people see me.

and now, now I’m medicated to change the lenses I wake up with every morning. how am I? I’m medicated. who am I? medicated.

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Just a lost soul trying to make sense of the world

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