For someone who feels things so deeply, whether love, pain, anguish, disgust, anger or hatred, there is nothing more unnatural than feeling numb. As a teenager, I can remember driving in a friend’s car, listening to Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb,” and today, I can’t even begin to imagine such a thing. Less than one week ago, I wrote the poem below. My emotions were beyond intense, but yet, I still felt alive. Read my words. Feel my pain and anger. If I tried to write that poem today, I would be left with a blank page.
Open, bleeding, pulpous skin,
Like an open wound to icy cold air,
My face and my body ache,
My tears burn as they run down my face.
Uncontrollable rage, hurt, anger, pain
Where do they come from?
Overflowing like molten lava from a volcano,
Burning, when it hits unexposed terrain,
Leaving nothing but ash in its way,
Throw my slab of meat on the molten flames,
And just let it burn,
So those who do not understand can filet the meat,
And consume it in gluttony.
Is this what an anti-depressant is supposed to do for you? Does it strip you of all emotion, of all creativity, to leave only a shell of a person to exist in the world? I drive with a blank stare on my face, just existing because I have no other choice. My husband asked me tonight what I find enjoyment in anymore. I couldn’t answer him. Is this the depression? Is this the medication? Has my anxiety now been controlled to the point where I feel nothing? The only feeling I can convey is my hatred for this medication and how it extinguishes my emotions. When will I begin to feel better? When will I begin to see a glimpse of myself again? I miss me. I miss who I was. I am fearful as to how long it will take me to find that person again, because I really don’t think she was all that bad.