Prozac NationMature

This is an old work that I found recently on my computer.

I'm sitting, just thinking about what we have made the world into with today's attitudes in society. If there's a problem, we are convinced that something will fix it. We, as a human race, are constantly convinced that this is just a practice run and its okay to make mistakes this time around because we can improve on it later. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but life isn't like that, unless you have underlying religious commitments or other beliefs then this is our only time around the block. So why is everyone walking around with their eyes shut?

I'm a 15 year old, psychotic manic depressive; I think that's what they call it. I take anti-depressants on a daily basis to make sure that I am not pushed too far that I do damage beyond repair. I suppose the fact that I'm writing this and I'm in this situation makes me a complete hypocrite, but aren't we all? I see people going about their day to day lives, no happiness. No smiles as they say good morning, the only reason I have faith in humanity because my next door neighbour asked me how my exams were going yesterday morning. We all walk around, completely numb from the neck up, thinking that this is the way it should be because we live in a new age society that is a strong believer that no matter how bad things get, you don't have to worry because drugs will fix it all. I agree that this may have been the prophecy of the majority of the past 50 years but there's a difference between adolescence experimenting with illegal highs and people of all ages with all different types of lives taking pills to help them get through the day.

Am I the only one that think's that maybe we might be a bit, 'wet' as my mother calls it? It may not be our fault, if you teach a monkey to sing and dance for all its life; it's not the monkey's fault when it fails a mathematics exam because all it knows is dance moves. Is it? By writing this I am not denying, in any way, that mental illness' is serious and should be dealt with in a way that shows the best recovery and quality of living for the sufferer and the people around them. God knows that with my family history I know that mental illness' is a real thing that can't just go away, no matter how much you want it to. But I think that my generation is in for a big surprise when we realise how protected we have been, and I am sure that 1/3 of my school year aren’t going to make it out alive. Because in this life, shit gets dealt to you. But the happiest people are always the ones that have suffered more than others, purely because they can appreciate the colours in the sky.

Since being diagnosed with depression things have gotten worse, better, worse again, then better again, and it has made me a stronger person. But I can’t help thinking that if we weren’t so looked after for the first 16-18 years of our lives, more of us would be able to cope with the day to day challenges, instead of being under some illusion that everything can be fixed with a doctor’s appointment and a ‘sunshine pill’ as my father says.

If, a year ago, someone told me that I am going to be completely abandoned with no money, no home, no food, and I had to make it on my own in aid of survival then I am 99% sure I wouldn’t have seen the point in trying because giving up is easy. Well, it’s easier than trying. But the reward is not half as great as the feeling of being proud, for what you’ve accomplished. No drug can make that feeling; I don’t care what doctors say. But now, if I was to be in the unfortunate circumstance of having nothing left, I’d make something for myself that’s worth living for.

I’m sure if you did a blind trial of anti-depressants giving 50% of the participants placebo drug, or ‘dummy drugs’ then at least half of them would think that they had felt happier. But when I am happy, I can’t get the niggling thought that it’s not real and it’s just the drugs that are making me feel this way. I enjoy it, but it doesn’t feel real, and the feeling is short lived and quite rare, although I do have quite a few unnatural outbursts or pure ecstasy.

It’s very common for users of anti-depressants, or mood stabilizers to claim feeling numb and in extreme situations, completely lifeless. I have found that the anti-depressants gave me a high feeling of apathy. I didn’t want to get up in the morning, because, what’s the point? I wasn’t sad, I was numb. I still am, in some ways. Although, I have found other ways to express myself, one is evidentially through writing at all hours of the morning.

At the end of all of this, I am only one person, and I won’t change the world with a blog post. But if someone reading this, is sitting feeling at the end of the road. Just know that after that road, there’s always something, whether it’s a grass verge or a lake. This world can be an ugly place to be in which makes you appreciate the beauty. In the end, we’re all just part of a living, breathing and forever growing Prozac nation.

The End

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