The Little Blue Pill (Trigger Warning)

The Little Blue Pill

Yes, that one.

The one that is supposed to make me feel better,

even though it's color represents the opposite feeling of happy

The Little Blue Pill that I take every night before bed.

The one that makes my head hurt

The one that makes me anxious

The one that signifies that I'm not alright.

It's more than just a pill.

It's a treatment.

Because I am sick.

No matter how much I don't want to admit it

No matter how much I don't want to believe it

I. Am. Sick.

Depression is an illness,

and denying that is not going to help me get better.

Denying it is just going to invalidate my feelings,

the ones I cannot control.

It's an illness of the mind,

and no matter how badly I just want it to go away,

it won't.

That Little Blue Pill that I mentioned,

it doesn't start out with helping.

It starts with making you wish you were dead,

It starts with making you feel like you just want to end it all.

But once you think you can't take anymore,

It all changes.

You begin to feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

You begin to feel like you can breathe again.

You start to feel like your normal self,

whatever that means for you now.

Everything is different,

and for once that is not a bad thing.

It isn't a miracle that you suddenly feel better.

It isn't a mistake.

It's the little blue pill.

At first it made me feel worse,

and any change to the dose will make me feel that way again.

But in the long run,

It does help.

Even though I wanted to do it on my own,

it's okay that I wasn't able to.

It wasn't something that I could fix on my own.

I shouldn't be ashamed to have needed help or to have gotten it.

I am sick, and there is no reason I should be ashamed of it.