Med

She had just had her heart broken and was moping and you told her to smile.
And I told her, "don't you dare."
And I pulled you off to the side and told you, "don't you ever tell someone to fake it."

What do they say? It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.
It takes no muscles to make no facial expression at all.

Lying burns more calories than telling the truth. I made this up.

Smiling causes happiness. So it goes.

Cussing reduces physical pain. So it goes.

Don't fake it.

Pills like baby teeth
I break them apart
I am weaning.


There is something more than happiness that needs to be discovered in this life. 

"Sometimes people need to walk a dark path," Ryan tells me.

Another night

I can't do it
I tell Ryan
and he drops his bike, leans it against the truck
Walks towards me
and puts his hands on my shoulders
tells me
"Do what you want
I love will love you no matter what
I don't see you as a person on medication
Don't do anything you're not ready for"

So I'm breaking my pills in half.
Half of 20mg
Half of 10mg
5 mg a day.

I used to go without. Gave myself a month here or there.
Last winter, my eye twitched. My brain felt like it was floating in the sea.
And I had just forgotten to take them
And I slept in
My routine was distrupted.
I did it all wrong.

I start splitting my pills in half after Ryan and slept that night in the daisy field.

Last summer, Mom asked me if I still thought about suicide. 

When I had told her I was on medication she rolled her eyes. Disappointed. I didn't bother to tell my Dad because I knew it would be worse. I told my brother and sister over a fire a few months in. 
My brother told me, "How can I judge to for taking medication when I have no idea what it's like to be you."

I told Mom, " I didn't think about suicide." 

She told me she read an article about depression and that kids that stayed up really late when they were young tended towards suicidal thinking when they were older. 

"Remember when you would stay up late working on your projects?"

Way past when everyone else had gone to sleep. 

I poisoned myself. 

Dave and I called it our  "human pills." He had submitted an article to my compilation zine, Fighting With Demons, about being on medication and for years growing up in a fundamentalist church.
"I grew up believing that my anxiety and sadness were deficiencies in faith."

The patient is a 22-year-old female, 9-week into her pregnant. She does not want the doctor to turn the monitor to show her the ultra-sound. A volunteer has offered to be nearby during the termination procedure. When the procedure is over patient cries so the volunteer believes she is not a monster. Patient does not believe monsters should have children.

The patient is a 24-year-old female. She remembers feeling different when she was 5-years-old and stayed in from recess. She has chronic thoughts of suicide but has never acted on them. Patient is wracked by guilt over an abortion she went through years ago that she never told anyone. She doesn't know how to explain this to others. Patient works compulsively. When projects are complete patient does not feel a sense of accomplishment. Patient lacks empathy and when issues arise in relationships she abandons them. She feels if she is not beautiful and happy she will not be loved. Patient feels great anxiety when thinking about travel and while traveling. 

Patient does not like herself. Patient feels guilty for being sad. 

Patient is 25-years-old and coming off medication. She has the support of a friend who gives her space to talk about what she is going through. As the medication leaves her system, she stops being able to explain what she was going through. Patient resents her friend for not being able to fix her. Patient feels guilt for not being able to be ok. With a feelings of worthlessness and guilt, suicidal thoughts return. 


Patient is 27-year-old female who has been on medication for more that three years. She feels the spectrum of emotions that she imagines other people feel. Patient expresses anger, sadness and happiness. Patient works compulsively. Patient feels accomplished when completing a project. She does not have chronic thoughts of suicide.

Patient is a 27-year-old female who is taking herself off from medication. She is scared. The guilt she has felt for being on medication is exacerbated by the lack of medication in her system. She is beginning to feel raw, like the buffer between her and the harshness of the world is flaking off. 
She is afraid she will not be able to connect to others soon. She is afraid she will not want to be around children. She is afraid of having chronic thoughts of suicide. She is afraid she won't like herself anymore. Patient is starting to believe she is ugly and no one likes her.