“I think it would be best if we started you on some anti-depressant medication.”

From then on, everything was a haze.

Not that taking the medication was bad, but the fact that I had to skewed everything for me.

I understand that the brain gets sick sometimes, and it needs help to heal. But I never thought I was brain sick. Or depressed. Or needing someone to drag me along to the doctor to get me the help I needed.

The doctor kept talking about taking the medication with food, and to expect some side effects in the next couple days, and blah blah blah.

I wasn’t listening. My head automatically nodded at certain points in the conversation. But I was lost.

Who was I now? I thought I had a sense of myself and who I wanted to become. Was that really me? Or was I so broken and fractured that even my best attempts and my highest dreams of myself were nothing more than sad reflections of a healthy human being?

“It’s alright Evan.”

The voice pulled me back to reality.

“It’s okay. This doesn’t mean you are broken.”

I smiled, while I screamed on the inside.

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