Shut Up And Take Your Pill

Every morning I’m alive,
After the dust settles
From getting her ready for work,
And out of the house.
After I finish eating
Whatever I’m going to eat
For my breakfast.

I have to stop.
And pour a drink.
Of something like orange juice.
And then it’s time
For me to pick up
That damned bottle.
And take the child proof cap off.
And take another dose.

Sometimes I stop.
And I read that label
On that bottle
One more time.
It always says
The same damn thing.


I know what fluoxetine is.
You may not.
It’s the generic name
Of Prozac.

And I have grown so tired
Of having to take it
Every frakkin’ day.
And I mean
Every day.
Every morning I wake up.
Even if I stay here
In my home.
I take another dose
Of fluoxetine.

I wish to God above
That I didn’t have to.
That I never had to touch
That bottle again.
That I never had to wash
40 mg of that drug
Down my throat.

I’ve taken fluoxetine
Every single day
Since July 17th.
Of 2010.

And sometimes,
I just sit.
On the sofa.
And I wish
That I wasn’t me.
That I was someone else.
Because I know.
I know the truth.
About who I am.
And the problem
That I live with
Every day.

And that truth means
I’ll have to take that drug
Every day that I’m alive.
Every day that I have left
To walk upon this earth.

No one makes me,
You know.
No one can force me
To take my medicine.
I know that.

But you see…
I also know
What I’m like.
What I become.
When I don’t take it.
When I don’t use it
To help me manage
The chemical imbalance
That exists within
My neurochemistry.

Sometimes I think
I understand
That person Paul
In the bible.
When he wrote
In 2 Corinthians 12:7,

To keep me from becoming conceited
Because of these surpassingly great revelations,
There was given me
A thorn in my flesh,
A messenger of Satan,
To torment me.

Sometimes I think
God gave me this curse.
This thing called
Biological depression.
Caused by my fucked up
Just to torture me.

But other times I think
He let this nightmare
Live in me.
So that I will never
Ever forget
That I’m only human.
That I’m fallible.
That I’m anything
But perfect.

So that I can always remember
That I can’t go through this life
That I need people.
That I need friends.
That I can depend on.
That can help me.
Just like my medicine.

I go through this same thing
Every time I stop
And think
About the truth
That I have to take
Every day.
So I can remain
In this world
That we live in.

And I’m for very tired
Of taking that damn pill
Every frakkin’ morning!

But I know
I have no viable alternative.
I take my pill.
Or I slowly
Once again,
Descend into hell.

I don’t want to ever find myself
In that dark place again.

So I always end up telling me
To stop thinking about the truth
That I have to take my pill
Every single day.
And that it’s likely that I will
Every day forever.

And in the end I always say to me,
“Shut up and take your pill.”


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