In 2009, I went through a “pharmacological brain meltdown,” as my psych doc adjusted my meds after I experienced a serotonin toxicity. My therapist recommended that I keep an e-journal, since at the time I was unable to write legibly. He told me to send them to him; I kept them for myself, too.
When we were given this writing assignment for Writing 201: Poetry, I immediately thought of this email. These thoughts of fog come from there. I’m formatting it to (almost) meet the requirements of a (non-rhyming) elegy, but intentionally leaving the misspellings – this is the fog I was in then.
you’ll have to read through the lines –
the meds make it really hard
to concentrate,
and so I find
I keeep going bsck to backspace
and fix an errorr, and missing.
sorry.
too much
work to fix them all.
yesterday, i felt
like I was listing
to the left –
today – today, the tide
blows me to the right some.
I’ve lost 3+ weeeks –
don’t feel lkike I’ve gained.
Chrus says he can telll
I’m a little better
every day –
I dont’ see it.
How am I gonna drive
to work? Or ansswer
emails or the phone
or do my jpb?
Just sitting here,
in a bubble
that waves around me and
makes everything foggy
and out of focus –
wait – in focus –
no – out of focus
again.
Amnd what am I supposedd to do
with myseflf in thte menatme?
I’m tired.
I’,m incapabable
of doing anything
faster than a snail’s pace
(even then, I might trip
and fall down
or spill something).
What am I supposed to do?
Alll I am capapble of
is laying down,
and maybe crying
before I fall alseep.
How long will this go on?
I misssed two appoitnemnts with you last week –
I hope you got the messaage that I was
in the hopsital trying to fix meds.
sure wish you had come to see me.
Sunny with a Chance of Clouds 