I tried Prozac when I was eighteen. After three weeks I wanted to kill myself. After another few weeks I found myself literally seeing my thoughts and purposefully trying to associate them with my feelings. I was unable to. A sad thought would cross my mind but I could not cry, as I had before.
I was aware enough to realize that the medication had separated thought and emotion. The separation freaked me out to no end so I stopped taking the medication.
It seemed the desired effect had likely been achieved, in clinical terms. In spiritual terms though, the medication had separated me from myself.
Where do tears go to hide when they cannot escape? I desperately needed and wanted to touch them, in all their wetness, confusion and pain. I wanted the complete experience of merged thought and emotion, however difficult it might be to endure.
My ex-husband has recently endured significant depression. I have been at the bitter end of his anger and sadness. I have not intervened in support, rather, I have kept a position of distance and silence. It has been this way for months.
Yesterday as I worked late into the evening I heard the James Taylor version of “The Water is Wide” playing on the other side of the wall. I heard a voice singing along and realized my ex was singing.
I stopped to listen. I cried. He was on his third trial of a secondary anti-depressant medication. Prozac. Hearing him singing I realized this one in conjunction with the other, was working. My tears continued to fall because I knew this meant a breakthrough for him.
I could not share my joy for him with him so I share it here.
A few lyrics from the song ,
“Oh love is handsome
And love is fine,
The sweetest flower
When first it’s new.
But love grows old
And waxes cold
And fades away like Summer dew.”
What am I grateful for?
- Realizing that the separation of thought and emotion is what some people need. To live. To let go.
- Music. It has been and will always be my medicine, my lover, my lifetime companion.