Lost in translation

I knew that it was a bad day before I even woke up.

I knew what was going to happen, even my dreams felt it. I blurred open my eyes at 7:20. Got dressed, felt like I was going to throw up. 8'oclock I call my mom and ask why she hadn't called yet. "Grace, it's only 7 in the morning." there was the second bad sign.

I almost cried in drama because my teacher called my name. I was angry and sick and sad and confused for no real reason. Then, in 5th, I missed two questions in the history review game, and I broke down. Everyone must have thought that I was insane. I pulled my teacher aside and choked out that I needed to go home.

On the way there, I figured it out. I had forgotten to take my medicine

. People sometimes don't realize that things have such a strong grip on them until they try to wrench themselves away. I had no idea that Lexapro had any major affect on me until today.

I am addicted to a prescription drug.

That is scary. I am scared to death. This is me in over my head. Anti-depressants are fucking serious. What scares me the most is that I do not know where to go from here. I want to get off of this drug, but I don't want to end up the catastrophe that I was today.. But when I do get off of this medicine, will I be totally different from how I was? Am I a totally different person now? How much of my original self have I lost? How much damage and help can one drug carry? How on earth can so much power and fear be packed into two little white pills?