A Mental Health Story: Part 2

Not many days are filled with hope. If any at all. But this day. This day, John woke up feeling good. Not overly euphoric or rambunctious, but the looming cloud that has floated above his head and the black void in his heart, is lighter – dare he say, gone?

John got out of bed, brushed his teeth, and made breakfast. Normally, this was a tremendously arduous task. Getting out of bed and not hating every step? What was this? He then sat in a comfortable chair, looking out on the lake, and enjoyed every bite of his eggs and bacon sandwich. It was the best sandwich he’d had all day.
Next was getting ready for work. Still not a fan of it, but this morning didn’t seem as stressful as the others. But wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here Johnny boy. We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Temporary relief is what we describe it as. Don’t get ahead of yourself, thinking you’re all better, you know what high expectations lead to. If you run faster than you can walk, or you walk faster than you can run – whatever it is – then you may end up tripping and landing flat on your face again. But dare he say he felt better?

What’s wrong with feeling good? Well, I just told you. But what’s wrong with just allowing yourself to feel that way? Why are there all these contingencies? Well, because, before… But now is different. I feel… good? he thought.

However, maybe it’s not and you should just go on with your day. Probably the wise thing to do.
So that’s what John did. He went to work, driving, feeling no ounce of rush or stress, even though traffic made him five minutes late. Nobody noticed or commented on the fact he was late either, which he kind of liked. He went about his normal duties then went home. The day going by rather quickly. Lunch was like second breakfast.

Then he arrived home.


You think of your thoughts like you do your personality, as part of you. When they become manipulated by chemicals and science, you begin to question that. Like it’s not part of you. Like it’s a pet. Trained to be either bad or good, soon to die, and be replaced by another, different or the same we do not yet know. Only time will tell.

John was the bare essence of scared and excited, mixing into a subtle nervousness. This feeling would normally leave him feeling sad and dejected and depressed, but for some reason, it isn’t this time, it just stays there. But it’s because of the damn medication. Isn’t it? It has to be. Nothing else has changed. Only his accessibility to thoughts and emotions he never knew he had before. And ideas and perspectives that vastly changed how he looked at himself and other people. Like peaking behind a curtain and finding a whole other stage and performance going on, the one being far more enjoyable and less painful. He sat on the edge of his bed thinking these things, feeling these things, all these things, all the things, still all there, but just differently presented and thought of.

A part of him was being torn away. Associating with something and someone for so long, how could you not miss them? Though it seems that they may be replaced quicker than we thought. A new part will set in. We’ve yet to see if this will be truly different or not. Only time will tell.
But so far he’s feeling good… considering.

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