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Psychiatrist Visits
They throw labels at me.
The diagnoses are drawn from the symptoms
That I answer “yes” to.
Yes, I’ve lost interest.
Yes, I feel exhausted.
Yes, I feel worthless and empty and cold.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
I scream yes
But I feel unsure
They write prescriptions.
Lexapro for anxiety,
Concerta for ADHD,
Something that starts with “W” for depression.
I am a mess that can be fixed
With small blue pills.
They pull me into a calm state of mind.
The anxiety attacks became more numerous,
But my heart doesn’t race out of control.
I don’t feel motivated,
But I can focus more.
Increased dosage,
Lower the milligrams.
Press buttons and pull levers until I am fixed.
Yes, I’m scared.
Yes, I’m confused to why this happened to me.
Yes, I’m swallowing pills by the handful.
Yes, yes, yes!
Ease the pain with the pills.
Become a blank slate
And begin again.
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My inspiration for this piece was my first visit with a psychiatrist after I had moved from Iowa, where I had lived for four years. The psychiatrist carefully took my symptoms into consideration and prescriped me medication for depression. I was already taking medication for ADHD and anxiety. I have always been easily stressed when it comes to discussing my medications and mental illnesses with others, especially doctors, so I wrote this piece as a way to release my frusturations.