I've figured out how depression and anxiety medications work. They take the feeling from one person, and give it to another. Ya, I know that that's not how they really work, but it sure feels like it. I hate that i'm even thinking of complaining, really i do, because i know that taking cipralex will help her in the long run and i'd do anything to see her happy. It's just that when i see her on the pills, it doesn't feel like her. She feels like a different person almost, but it's hard to explain to anybody. Then again maybe it's just me being over sensitive, every time i think of her being on the pills i end up having anxiety attacks so bad that i nearly throw up, and emotional pain so bad that well... i don't even want to say. All i want to do when she's on the pills is cut. Cut my arms and never stop, just keep going until all that's left is an empty shell. But i could never do that to her so i cut, but i take a days break in the damage. Sixteen cuts in a row, but seven on the day before, something telling me that for each pill she takes, i have to spill my own blood. I hate what those pills do to her, all i want is her, but it feels like the pills take her away to a place that i can't reach, and put a semi-aware replica in her place. It's possibly the worst feeling in the world, it's worse every day. I wish that she wasn't taking them, but if they make her better, i'll learn to live with the pain, cut by cut, drop by drop of crimson blood.