Depression Burger Recipe

Why I’m Medicated

I don’t think about why I’m taking my medicine anymore.

In the beginning, I knew each pill was a step in the right direction, perfectly calibrated to make life more bearable and help me work through my depression. Turn my baseline anxiety from an 8 to a 3, which keeps me from reaching a 10 and tracing door frames with my eyes in stressful situations.

Tonight was the first time in a long time I noticed the bottle in my hand as I fished a pill. Maybe because my bottle was in the living room instead of the bedroom. It made me remember why I fill my prescription every month. I don’t want to forget to breathe when I’m anxious, or to replace negative thoughts with positive thoughts, or reminding myself that no task is as important as being in a good mental space. Because without working on myself, the medication won’t work.

Leaky Roof

I never thought it could rain inside

Until I was so sad my tears wet the carpet

Tornadoes destroy homes from the outside

So I thought

Until my anger had me spinning through the house

Demolishing everything I touched

Thunder is just a distant noise

Until pain is booming in your chest

There is no time between the thunder and the lightning

Boom flash boom flash

Flash boom flash boom

 

I Used to Run

Denial

How can something so severe be denied

An open wound ignored

Until it’s reflected on another

To deny help in the depths of a bottomless well

Ignoring the rope swinging toward you

For better or worse