I feel like I have spent the last 5 years weakened, hindered from my full potential because of a pill they told me would help me. That’s what it really boils down to at the molecular level of everything in this situation. I was in a haze, sleeping daily through what it feels like to be truly human and not have the strongest of my emotions numbed or bottled, my instincts numbed and curbed and my needs hijacked and rearranged so that the most important thing in my life was sleep.

Have I been sleeping this whole time?

Had I been dreaming? Was it all just a fabrication of my subconscious into making me think that I’ve been living this whole time when, in reality, I’ve just been swallowing the pill and watching everything pass by me with eyes half open? I find myself thinking about this a lot lately now that I’m off the poison and it makes me legitimately pissed off because I now go back and ask myself what it is I’ve lost in the process? Have I slept through some of the best friendships, times and places that I never really saw because I was the somnambulant fool who was too drowsy to see he was feeding himself a healthy dose of unreality?

My anger burns clean for the first time in ages. No longer muddied by the wash of corporate pharmacopoeia, I feel like a pane of glass and shatterproof. I take it to my workouts most days and the price I pay is worth it. Let every nerve feel the sensation of the cathartic release today and rejoice in its freedom from apathy and neuropathy.

But it’s not all fire and bright lights. Unless it’s the ones that keep me awake some nights as I struggle to find a comfortable spot on my bed to lie my head down and return to sleep. It has not been easy. But I’ll take it over the somnolence induced by that yellow tablet any day. Every night grows less and less fitful. I just have to be patient and I have to remember the damage that five years of playing with the dopamine in my brain will take some time to undo.

I find it more difficult to be alone, sometimes. I am a solitary creature and I have been most of my life. I don’t like people around me all the time if I can help it and so I have almost this entire summer by myself when I have down time. And, to be honest, I’ve enjoyed it a lot. But I did meet someone this summer and, while I missed her before, being off the meds has just intensified it and made it even more real and apparent. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with that. There are times when I don’t know what I should do with myself. I will sit on my bed and stare at the floor, weigh all my options finding none of them satisfactory and just continue to sit there. Sometimes, when I’m alone that’s all I can do is just be. It sounds sad but it isn’t. I don’t know how to explain it.

I don’t tolerate people like I used to. My patience wears thin even faster than it already does. I just want people to be real and I want them to treat me with real respect, not just some face-value smile. I see right through that. Don’t act like I’m your friend because you’re too afraid to tell me what you really think or you think I’ll rip you apart. Keep your eggshell walking out of my general vicinity. I suppose I’m guilty of this at times but I see it so much at work and even at church now that I find myself just giving up.

Those are just a few things I’ve noticed. I want to make it a regular habit of writing in my blog and not just poetry. I’ve been reading Henry Rollins lately and that’s really inspired me to do something more with my writing than just assembling crappy poetry.


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