Submission

take the meds they say. this drug or that drug. Don’t argue. don’t fight. there is no point to that. You are the patient. You can’t possibly know what is in your best interest. You are sick. Worse, mentally ill. Take the drugs.
When Beatrice asked why I am not fighting I just shook my head fighting the tears. “This system has broken us.” I could not bring myself to say me. I know the cost. I have given up. I see no point fighting. It is my fault here. You think I have sabotaged this from the beginning. I didn’t want to take the drug. Funny how that works, that whole free will and thinking for oneself until you find yourself in this spot. Those thoughts and fears. All the issues or side effects shrugged aside because you are not the one that can determine if they are important enough. I guess I walked right into this. I stated in the beginning my dislike of the medication and some of the side effects it was known for. I set myself up. I should have kept my mouth shut. Should have been a lemming like all the other patients. swallow them. yep, swallow a few more. doesn’t matter. In the pursuit of stability I have learned powerlessness and hopelessness. It is okay to dismiss me. It is okay to brush aside with irritation my inability to pinpoint the problem. I can not think straight. Haven’t since the beginning. The weeks are blurred and faded. Names and numbers disfigured and mangled, lost within my head. But that doesn’t matter either. I’m exhausted now. Teetering out on the edge in the land of broken people. I think of all the others I crossed paths with in this life. Those vacant stares. The minds eaten away by drugs and forced submission until they are docile fat and slow. The reality that there is no control here just dominance by a field that says it makes us better. There is no better. there is following in line and keeping up. Don’t think outside the box. There is no right to be worried or fearful. No use for anger and frustration. It only makes the process harder. Give up. Conform. That is all. My anger has no purpose except to make this living nightmare worse. The tears of sadness and devastation tore me apart today. I don’t know how to put myself back where I was except to fall deeply into sleep.

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