Magic Pill

Well it seems to me that you have seen too much in too few years
And though you've tried you just can't hide
Your eyes are edged with tears
---19th Nervous Breakdown, Rolling Stones

How about a Mother's Little Helper...got one? The one I swallow everyday doesn't seem to do the trick.

Did you ever think you'd hear someone say that cancer was way easier than depression? Maybe cause I did so well and the cancer was so responsive to that treatment that I didn't face the darker days that some w/that disease do.

All I know is that my existence takes more work than I think should be necessary, and happiness is something I'm not altogether familiar with.

I love being alone but hate being lonely.

I love being single but want to have a family.

I detest being obese but love food more than life.

I want to get out of this bed but it's the safest place I know.

I spend my time thinking Claire deserves so much more than this. But really, it is me who deserves more than this. But I won't do the work, so I don't see any changes ahead. The last time I tried I spent a lot of $$ and got sick from new medication. That most definitely discouraged me.

My romantic memories are littered with partners who grew weary of my erratic moods, my anger, my sadness. So I will be the story to their wives..."My one ex was just crazy...thank God I got out of that one alive." I think about that a LOT. I'm the horror story.

The difference between before and now is that I felt that I had youth on my side, that I was always ready for a new beginning. Now I get older each day, and I have too much to be responsible for to afford myself that new beginning. I'm just not a fan of the whole blended family, sorry.

So with a low mood, struggling finances, and no real "I can't wait for...." prospects, existing means being conscience of each breath in, each breath out.

I'll be OK. Come Tuesday, I'll wind myself up and go through the daily motions and press repeat, cause the days just blend together. But someday, it would be great to be MORE than OK. What would that feel like? I have forgotten the possibility.

If you, reader, do not suffer from mental illness, thank whatever power you believe in. It is wretched, it is unkind, it is all-encompassing. It makes people uncomfortable, as I likely am right now to those who read this. But I'd gladly take that discomfort over this way of life any day.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
---I Am A Rock, Simon & Garfunkel