A Poem As I Begin Treatment for Clinical Depression

The 50 milligram Lament

 

Operating Heavy Machinery is out,

About to cross it off my bucket list,

For now.

Rummaged those Tonka Trucks from my childhood too soon,

It seems.

For this, for all the absolutes, the things I know,

A counter-weight of a thousand questions yet remain:

Like which of me from history shall I be

As the pharmacology re-wires me,

Theoretically.

50 milligrams,

Medicinal Kleenex for tears unexpected, unappreciated;

To soothe breaths and heartbeats that come too quickly,

all that energy paralyzing:

The fear of failing, of being nothing,

The latter of which is, truth be told,

A Christian’s goal:

To be nothing, so that in Christ one could be everything:

In him; For him; Though him.

I wait for everything, but the afternoon brings only rain,

For now.

But tomorrow might yet be the day

When by some mystery it becomes a yesterday of yesterday,

When I was someone else less sad.

 

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