Monday, September 28, 2015

Monday Missives #8

Another in my series of never-to-be-sent therapeutic letters....

Dear Chemicals,

Yes, you chemicals up in my head and down in my gut. All the conspiratorial bunch that have colluded to make my mood so unstable of late, this missive is for you.

I don't know if you were inspired by the challenges in my life to possibly "up the ante" and throw me a curve ball on top of new parenthood and all that, or if you simply woke up one day and decided to screw around a bit, but I'm really ready for this melee to cease. I'm ready for an upward swing.

I'm ready to have my concentration back, my memory at a better level, to have my thoughts free of the vivid imaginings of hurting myself and my child, free from the desperate wishes to miraculously start a new life at the drop of a hat. I'm ready to be busy again, to have things that I want to do, goals to achieve, adventures to explore, to laugh and to play and to work.

I'm ready to leave the sleepy anchored feeling behind that keeps me in bed longer than I need to be. I'm ready to leave behind the nauseated feelings from the horrible anxiety you produce. I'm ready to be a contributing member in my marriage instead of feeling like my husband is a single parent. I'm ready to have a life again. To be a mom again.

I'm trying to tame you but it would be so much easier if you just got in line, if you were nice for a bit. Please? These drugs that I'm taking to curb your force over my life don't seem to be doing much. I'm terrified of moving to something different yet afraid of staying on them and making no progress.

I feel so helpless, at your mercy, at the mercy of these prescription drugs, at the mercy of those who tolerate my sick self. It seems that one push and I'll finally topple for good, yet I always seem to remain perched here, in turmoil, at the edge of disaster. 

I can't understand you, you dastardly chemicals. It seems so self-defeating what you do, and yet you do it over and over, not to just to me but thousands of other victims in bodies all around the world. It makes no sense. Is this really just a cruel game of no winners?

I'm so tired of this wicked game. I can't forfeit. I can't seem to win. We're locked in a stalemate and I can only hold on and hope I get the upper hand soon.

In the meantime, screw you chemicals. You're just plain mean.

Hating how you make me hate me,


  1. Your letters are brilliant. Heart-felt, painful truths.
    I so hope you find a balance. Soon.

  2. I'd say you expressed your feelings eloquently...I hope things improve. Hugs!

  3. Well done. Did you feel better after writing this?


Thank you for reading and commenting!

Be well, HBF