Pills Pills Pills

It occurred to me the for the first time recently that I am dependent on pills for my life.

If civilization ended tomorrow, and I had no more access to birth control or anti-depressants, I would die. I would bleed out through my uterus, or cancer would grow, or my depression might win. It's not uncommon at all for people to depend on medication of course, but it's the first time in my life, besides having an asthma inhaler, that I've felt this sense of vulnerability.

There's my mortality, dosed out in a monthly supply by our friendly, local pharmacist.

I've been thinking about it every morning when I take my meds; sort of blessing each pill as I lay it out carefully to be taken in a group. There's the birth control, which is keeping my uterus from bleeding out and anything unwanted from growing. There's the anti-depressants, which have helped me climb out of that miserable hole I was stuck in. I'm not all the way out, I'm still having some desperate thoughts on my bad days, but it's like 50% better, which is enough to give me a life again.

Then there's the vitamins, which are maybe not essential for life, but they're pretty important to feeling like anything is worth anything, so I take the D and the C, the iron if I'm feeling peaky and a probiotic if my stomach's been weird, which it is only rarely now. I take them all together, one big gulp of a life affirmation. With that swallow, every day I choose to be here, I participate in my own wellness. And while the action is small, it's significant to me to be moving forward, to be getting better, to be caring for myself.




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