By Anonymous

Here’s a little pill, here’s a little fix-it-all, okay? It’s all okay.

Words from Madison Beers’ “Effortless.” It’s easy to believe that one little pill is the answer. The little
white pill, the little fix-it-all. 20 mg of Lexapro and your problems are over. It’ll help you, why not take
it? Everything will be fine.

Why, then, did it take me years to get an anxiety diagnosis in the first place? Why, then, do I feel like
taking the medicine is just the easy way out? I shouldn’t need it—I don’t need it—I don’t want it—I
can’t live without it.

Nothing with it, nothing without it.

Anyone who says it fixes anything is kidding themselves. Anyone who thinks they can survive without
is kidding themselves. It fixes everything, it fixes nothing, everything’s fine, everything’s not fine.

You’re in your head too much, don’t be afraid of medication, it’s just a tool to help you. Maybe
someday, you won’t need it anymore.

I don’t want it. I wish I didn’t need it. I don’t need it. I’m just fine. I’m doing fine. I’m perfectly fine.

I’m kidding myself, aren’t I?

Medication isn’t an easy subject. You can’t understand until you’ve experienced it—the shame, the
denial, the dependence, the stigma. It’s hard to explain why something that’s supposed to help you can
feel like the end of the world.

I don’t want it while I have it but if I lose it it’s game over.

I don’t feel like anyone. The world is mad, and they say I’m the crazy one?

I wish it really was a fix-it-all.