Between Scylla and Charybdis
romanticizing 50mg of fluoxetine
Two pills, green, sometimes orange, sometimes both; two little beings of light, or perhaps a fragment of a soft, cold spring breeze. Two small chemical entities, traveling down my throat, sliding down my esophagus. Their physical shells end up in the pits of my stomach, sure, but their souls—oh, their lovely two-headed soul—don’t go so low, oh no. They fly high, high into my chest. Hand in hand, they knock on my ribcage, gently, lovingly. With clasped hands, they reach my aching heart, and they hug it so dearly, basking my soul in their warmth, soothing my pains with their soft whispers.
My heart loves it, you know, when the twins visit. They dance around it, children of man’s own hands. How are you so small, yet so powerful?
And then the day ends, and their energy starts to vanish. Oh, my poor heart, you do not understand—why do they always go? How are you going to survive these few hours without their company, which you’ve gotten so used to?
"Brain! Brain! Do not ignore my pleas! Do not punish me like this!"
But the brain doesn’t listen. Its version of the story is very different. See, the brain might feel calm, but the brain doesn’t understand the heart’s obsession. The twins conceal it, weaken it. They are no peace-bringers but the devil to the brain!
Sogginess, blurriness, emptiness—why must the brain be punished when the heart is thriving? And why must the opposite be true as well? The brain hates stripping itself of its creativity, from the madness. Sure, the brain isn’t the kindest. Yes, maybe it gets obsessive, scared, irrational. But that’s just its nature. That’s just how it is. Why isn’t it comforting?
Oh, but the brain, no matter all, remains affectionate toward the heart, for it is far more sensitive. And so the brain allows the heart to have another day of happiness.
As a host of these two, I am torn apart. Without meds, I am miserable, but medicated, I lose a chunk of myself. It is a dilemma, really. But in the end, I sacrifice my identity for momentary peace. So I grab my seat, between Scylla and Charybdis.
ps : painting by Alice Lin on pinterest.