She Muses

I look at my Lithium tablet. It's labeled as an "Anti-Psychotic." I feel down, and am fighting the darkness. I begin to dream...I search with a candle, to twist the shadows into something I can handle. The walls enforce back their darkness, even when the candle flickers for one tiny half second. I am spooked, this feeling is here again: somewhere around me is the one I call the Aggressor.

Words break the dark and the candle flickers--it's about to go out. The gust of the Aggressor is here--she with long, terrible needle, and claims, such claims! "This will make you better," she says; I scream to no avail as she knocks the candle to the floor.

I can't see, for she has extinguished what little light I had; the shadows win, the gloomy room laughs, and I am enveloped in Bi-Polar as my eyelids flutter close, and the murky walls cover me with dark, sinister laughs, yet again...

I snap back out of it, take my pill, and lean back in my writing chair, certain that my eyes show fear right now: deep fear. So, I begin my Buddhist mantras and immediately I begin to feel better.

But first, I turn on the office light.