rodeo

Medication can only work if you're taking it. I never mean to skip a pill. Honestly, I never do. It just happens, more frequently than I'd like, because I'm always running.

But I can't keep myself from getting that sort of pill-popping ambivalence that people on attitude-altering drugs feel sometimes. I feel weak when I take my pills. I am letting ten milligrams define my personality. My entire life, I have not been able to achieve what those ten milligrams have achieved in a matter of weeks.

Ten milligrams of Lexapro. One tablet every morning (or afternoon or night or whenever I remember, I'm not picky) as directed. That's all it took to change me. Ten milligrams of Lexapro, the smallest prescribed dosage of anti-anxiety medications on the market is the thing that keeps me sane.

And I love what it's done, truly. I am a happier person because of Lexapro. Six months ago, this is what I stayed up until three saying:

I've gotten to an incredibly dangerous place. I don't want to go to college.  I don't want to spend time with my family. I don't want to be loved by anyone. I don't want to go near anyone or anything  because I don't deserve it, and I don't deserve it because in my own mind I am dying and I'm only going to complicate it all, only going to cause them pain.

 Realistically, rationally, logically, I need this medication. It fixes me.

But damn, I cannot stand when I am in a bad mood or I am upset and the first question is, "Did you take your anti-anxiety medications?"

I am still a person with feelings and layers and I am allowed to be upset over understandable and sometimes even irrational things about the world despite my constantly-medicated state.

I don't know what I'm saying.

I'm pulling at my hair again.