Just take the goddamn meds already
I remember the small cups that were on a tray. Each containing pills. Just like you've seen on One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest or Girl Interrupted. You wait for your name to be called. The cup with your meds and another small cup of water are handed to you. You have to open your mouth and lift your tongue to show you took them. I remember how excited I was months later when I felt the impact of a good cocktail. Finally a path to peace in my head. Pills aren't the only part of the solution, but they do make it easier to get to a stable place.
Lately, I've been taking them later and later in the day. Sometimes I think about not taking them at all. And then yesterday, I didn't take them at all. This scared me quite a bit. I've seen that story play out. It is a shit show. I received caring reminders to take them today and I did.
I've been obsessing over why I've been so ambivalent about meds. Much like everything else in my life, I have an itch to know the "why" of stuff. Why is the moon that color? Why does my dog dig while he's on my bed? But Google probably can't tell me the answer to the most urgent question at hand. Why the fuck am I uninterested in taking my meds?
Yes, I did chat with my psychiatrist and therapist. I chat with them regularly. The former helped me understand the physiological impact of not being consistent or suddenly stopping. And the latter helped me see the bigger picture. The way way way bigger picture.
Two years ago this week, I decided the emotional pain was just too much and that something had to be done. I had too many pills at hand, good pot, and hard liquor. I sat with the TV on, not really paying attention. I'd been crying a lot. My days had become monotonous. I wasn't sleeping well without pot. I'd gotten into the habit of drinking and smoking pot regularly. Daily, if I could. It was such an efficient way to dull my emotions. Crossing the streams is how someone once referred to it as. I had been numb for days and was desperate for physical contact. I wanted to be loved so badly.
Today feels similar in many ways. I'm sitting in the same chair. The TV is on and I'm not really paying attention. I did cry a lot today. I'm in pain from the lack of physical contact. I'm isolated and my days are monotonous. It is just as difficult for me to sleep now as it was then. Like then, work is my only real outlet. COVID is creating the circumstances of two years ago. Isolation, monotony, and lack of physical contact. I don't choose this. I can't escape it. Things are different now but they also aren't.
I've grown tired of taking meds. I'm exhausted just to think I'll probably need to take these for the rest of my life. Logically, I know I shouldn't stop and that it's important to take them on time. I won't stop taking them. I don't want to go back to the hospital. I don't want to hear my name called to get my cup of meds off of the tray, open my mouth, and lift my tongue.