I’m lonely today, and I’m so medicated that I don’t know whether to take a pill or venture inward and write. The latter incites such a pure fear in me that I’m usually satisfied with ingesting a capsule to quell the dread of cracking the hood and peering within. But today I’ll take a peek.
I can’t sleep at night without the aid of 75mg of benadryl, 2mg of risperdal, an antipsychotic, and sometimes a few teaspoons of nyquil. Together these drugs lull me into a fairly deep sleep. Not deep enough, however to ward off dreams. I dream of people who never loved me, like a newly married (name omitted), a heavy crush from high school. I dream of us orbiting one another, being drawn ever close together, of him looking at me with bated breath, ready to profess his love for me. But the words are stuck behind his teeth—they never come to fruition. This is especially troubling considering my deep love and affection for J, the love of my life. I think he’s symbolic, truthfully, of the love that I feel I’ll never deserve or receive, romantically or otherwise.
I dream more of being once again in high school, specifically my final semester—but I’m fucking it all up and I won’t finish with the rest of my class. This usually coincides with a grand humiliation of myself in front of my most bloodthirsty, vapid classmates, and friends with whom I’ve lost touch. I dream of my very real financial troubles. I dream of the end of the world—of killing to survive. I dream of N—a former lover of J’s, wherein she subjects me to the details of his imagined infidelity. I dream of loss. Olive, my dog, dies. My mother dies. J dies. I often wake with the sensation of having stepped off a cliff. I often wake crying, trembling, thankful for being brought to my reality, not vaguely mirrored in my dreams.
I’m troubled during waking hours too. Will I work enough this week? 14 days until I get paid again. Still not enough. Will my skin fester and crack? Will J leave me? What was I supposed to do again? I can’t remember. My mind, my memory, fail me. What’s the date? Did I eat breakfast? Why am I still hungry? Will I ever lose weight? Will I ever have a day where I’m not tired, fatigued, exhausted, tired tired all the time? I’ve been tired for years. Can I get back to my studies in this condition? Will I sleep through classes again? Forget myself? Lose memories like water slipping through my fingers? Lose people like water slipping through my fingers? I’m losing myself, my sanity, like
So much waiting is extinguishing me. So much uncertainty is weighting down on me. If there was a pill to take this cinder block off my chest—give me that pill. I’m just so tired.
-Mara Lisson, Pills