My Bitter Truth of Happiness

 Hey, you. 

Take your freaking pills.

(Your anti depressants. Your anti anxiety meds .)

You know, whatever pills you cringe at the thought of having to take?

Yeah. That those .

Take it, please.

You deserve to be healthy. 

You deserve to feel sunshine. 

You deserve joy.

You deserve a brain that doesn’t beat you up.

And yes, I know it’s kind of a pain. 

I also know some days you might feel strong enough to do without it.

But those little pills isn’t for the good days, my dear. 

And don’t you remember the bad days?

Those days when the storm clouds come rolling in.

When energy leaks out of your body like someone pulled the drain. 

When brushing your teeth feels like a marathon and sunshine is offensive and even the most joyful noises of your household sounds like a million bees in your head...

I remember those days.

And that’s why *I* take the pills.

One day at a time, every refill at a time, one season at a time, I take the pills.

You see, sometimes sunshine tastes like sour chalk and has to be washed down with water.

Sometimes God’s biggest miracles come in little orange bottles.

Sometimes your very salvation is written on a prescription pad, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Fight the good fight with me. Stay in the sunshine. Vulnerability is courageous as hell, and it takes so much courage to admit you need this.

Warrior on, my friend. You aren’t alone.

Take your freaking pills .

I’m sure as heck gonna  taking mine.