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I've been acquainted with the following
psychoactives compounds:

Depressants & Dissociatives;
Ethanol / EtOH / alcohol, drink, *****
γ-Hydroxybutyric acid / GHB / G, fantasy
β-Phenyl-γ-aminobutyric acid / PhGABA / Phenibut
Dextromethorphan / DXM / Benylin, Robitussin
Morphine / Papaver somniferum / *****
3-Methylmorphine / Codeine
Dihydrocodeine / DHC
Buprenorphine / Subutex, Suboxone
N-Allylnoroxymorphone / Naloxone / Suboxone, Narcan
Tramadol / Ultram
O-Desmethyltramadol/ O-DSMT / Omnitram
Thiopental / Sodium Pentothal
Diazepam / ******
2'-Chlorodiazepam / Ro5-3448 / Diclazepam
4'-Chlorodiazepam / Ro5-4864
Chlordiazepoxide / Librium
Gidazepam, hidazepam
Desalkylgidazepam / Bromonordiazepam
N-Desalkylfluarazepam / Norfluarazepam
Flubromazepam
Alprazolam / Xanax
Bromazolam / XLI-268
Clonazolam, Clonitrazolam / Clam
Etizolam / Etilaam, Etizest
Flualprazolam
Flubromazolam
Zopiclone / Zimovane
Pagoclone
Promethazine / Phenergan
Diphenhydramine / DPH / Benadryl, Nytol
Chlorphenamine, chlorpheniramine / CPM / Piriton
Cetirizine / Zyrtec
Amitriptyline / Elavil
Tianeptine / Coaxil, Stablon
Mirtazapine / Remeron
Quetiapine / Seroquel
Nitrous Oxide / N2O / laughing gas
Amyl Nitrite / Poppers
Ketamine [racemic] / K, Kitty
Esketamine [S-isomer] / Special K
Deschloroketamine / 2'-Oxo-PCM / DCK
N-ethyldeschloroketamine / 2'-Oxo-PCE / O-PCE / Eticyclidone
Deoxymethoxetamine / 3-Me-2′-Oxo-PCE / DMXE
Methoxetamine / 3-MeO-2'-Oxo-PCE / MXE / Mexxy
Hydroxetamine / 3-**-2'-Oxo-PCE / HXE / Hexxy
Methoxpropamine / 2-Oxo-3'-MeO-PCPr / MXPr
Methoxisopropamine / 2-Oxo-3'-MeO-PCiPr / MXiPr
3-Hydroxyphencyclidine / 3-**-***
3-Methoxyphencyclidine / 3-MeO-***
3-Methoxyeticyclidine / 3-MeO-PCE
3-Methyleticyclidine / 3-Me-PCE

Stimulants & Enhancers;
1,3,7-Trimethylxanthine / Caffeine / Coffea, Camellia sinensis / Coffee, Tea
3,7-dimethylxanthine / Theobromine / [constituent of] Chocolate
N-Ethyl-L-glutamine / L-Theanine / [constituent of] Green Tea
Nicotine / Nicotiana / Tobacco, cigarettes, smokes
Ephedrine / Ephedra
Pseudoephedrine / Ephedra, Sudafed
Adrenaline, Epinephrine
Choline bitartrate
L-alpha glycerylphosphorylcholine / Alpha-GPC, Choline alfoscerate
Cytidine 5'-diphosphocholine / CDP-choline, Citicoline
N-Acetylcysteine / NAC
2-Dimethylaminoethyl (4-chlorophenoxy)acetate / Meclofenoxate
N-Phenylacetyl-L-prolylglycine ethyl ester / Omberacetam / Noopept
Coluracetam / BCI-540
4-Phenylpiracetam
Propranolol
(±)-2-Benzhydrylsulfinyleth­anehydroxamic acid / Adrafinil
(±)-2-[(Diphenylmethyl)sulfinyl]acetamide / Modafinil
(–)-2-[(R)-(diphenylmethyl)sulfinyl]acetamide / Armodafinil
α-Methylphenethylamine / Amphetamine, αMP / Speed
N-Methylamphetamine / Methamphetamine / ****
Lisdexamfetamine / Vyvanse, Tyvense, Elvanse
2-Fluoromethamphetamine / 2-FMA
3-Fluoroamphetamine / 3-FA /  PAL-353
4-Fluoroamphetamine / 4-FA, 4-FMP /  PAL-303 / Flux
4-Methoxyamphetamine / PMA, 4-MA / Death
5-Methoxy-2-aminoindane / MEAI, 5-MeO-AI / Chaperone, Pace
Methythiolpropamine / MPA / Blow
3-Fluorophenmetrazine / 3-FPM / PAL-593
Methylphenidate / MPH / Ritalin, Concerta
4-Fluoromethylphenidate / 4F-MPH
4-Fluoroethylphenidate / 4F-EPH
3-Methylmethcathinone / 3-MMC / Metaphedrone
3-Methylethcathinone / 3-MEC
4-Methylmethcathinone / 4-MMC / Mephedrone
4-Methylethcathinone / 4-MEC
3-Chloro-N-tert-butyl-cathinone / Bupropion / Wellbutrin, Zyban
4-Chloromethcathinone / 4-CMC / Clephedrone
4-Fluoromethcathinone / 4-FMC / Flephedrone
4-Fluoro-α-methylaminovalerophenone / 4-Fluoropentedrone / 4-FPD
α-Ethylaminocaprophenone / N-Ethylhexedrone / NEH / Hexen
alpha-Pyrrolidinohexiophenone / α-PHP / PV-7
alpha-Pyrrolidinoisohexaphenone / α-PiHP, α-PHiP
3,4-Methylenedioxy-α-pyrrolidinohexiophenone / MDPHP
3,4-Methyl​enedioxy​pentedrone / βk-MBDP / Pentylone
3,4-Methylenedioxymethcathinone / βk-MDMA / MDMC / Methylone
3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine / MDMA / ecstasy
5-(2-methylaminopropyl)benzofuran / 5-MAPB
6-(2-Aminopropyl)benzofuran / 6-APB / Benzofury
6-(2-Aminopropyl)-2,3-dihydrobenzofuran / 6-APDB / 4-desoxy-MDA
Mesembrine / Sceletium tortuosum, Kanna
Harmine / Peganum harmala / Syrian Rue
3,4,8-Trimethoxyphenanthrene-2,5-diol / Dendrobium nobile
NSI-189
4-chloro-N-(2-morpholin-4-ylethyl)benzamide / Moclobemide
Escitalopram / Cipralex, Lexapro
Fluoxetine / Prozac
Sertraline / Zoloft
Venlafaxine / Effexor
5-Hydroxytryptophan / 5-HTP / Oxitryptan

Hallucinogens & Psychedelics;
Cannabidiol / CBD / Cannabis
Cannabigerol / CBG / Cannabis
Δ9-Tetrahydrocannabinol / THC / Cannabis, Marijuana
Hexahydrocannabinol / HHC
AM-2201 / Synth-'noids, Spice
NM-2201 / CBL-2201
5C-AB-PINICA
Salvinorin A  / Salvia Divinorum / Diviner's Sage
d-Lysergic acid amide / d-Lysergamide / LSA / Ergine
Lysergic acid diethylamide / Lysergide / LSD, LAD / Acid, Lucy
Lysergic acid 2,4-dimethylazetidide / LSZ / Diazedine, Lambda, λ
1-Acetyl-lysergic acid diethylamide / 1A-LSD / ALD-52
1-Propionyl-lysergic acid diethylamide / 1P-LSD
1-Cyclopropionyl-N-Methyl-N-isopropyllysergamide / 1cP-MiPLA
6-Allyl-6-nor-lysergic acid diethylamide / AL-LAD / Aladdin
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylamphetamine / DOM / Dominic
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-bromoamphetamine / DOB / Aphrodite
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-chloroamphetamine / DOC / Doctor
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylthioamphetamine / DOT / Aleph
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methyl-α-ethylphenethylamine / 4C-D / Ariadne
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylphenethylamine / 2C-D, 2C-M / Matrix
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-ethylphenethylamine / 2C-E / Eternity
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-bromophenethylamine / 2C-B / Nexus
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-chlorophenethylamine / 2C-C / Callisto
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-iodophenethylamine / 2C-I / Infinity
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-methylthiophenethylamine / 2C-T / Tesseract
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-ethylthiophenethylamine / 2C-T-2 / Rosy
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-fluoroethylthiophenethylamine / 2C-T-21 / Aurora
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-bromo-β-keto-phenethylamine / βk-2C-B
2,5-Dimethoxy-4-bromo-β-hydroxy-phenethylamine / βOH-2C-B / BOHB
2,3,6,7-Benzo-dihydro-difuran-8-bromo-ethylamine / 2C-B-FLY
2,5-Dimethoxy-N-(2-methoxybenzyl)-4-bromophenethylamine / 25B
2,5-Dimethoxy-N-(2-methoxybenzyl)-4-chlorophenethylamine / 25C
2,5-Dimethoxy-N-(2-methoxybenzyl)-4-iodophenethylamine / 25I
2,5-Dimethoxy-N-(2-hydroxybenzyl)-4-ethylphenethylamine / 25E-NBOH
3,4-Methylenedioxyamphetamine / MDA / Sass, Sally
3,4,5-Trimethoxyphenethylamine / Mescaline / M
3,5-Dimethoxy-4-ethoxyphenethylamine / Escaline
3,5-Dimethoxy-4-methallyloxyphenethylamine / Methallylescaline / MAL
α-Methyltryptamine / αMT / Indopan
N,N-dimethyltryptamine / DMT / The Spirit
N,N-dipropyltryptamine / DPT / The Light
N,N-Diisopropyltryptamine / DiPT / The Sound
N-Methyl-N-ethyltryptamine / MET / The Colour
N-Methyl-N-propyltryptamine / MPT
N-Ethyl-N-propyltryptamine / EPT
N-Methyl-N-isopropyltryptamine / MiPT / The Touch
4-Hydroxy-dimethyltryptamine / 4-**-DMT / Psilocybe / Psilocin
4-Phosphoryloxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine / 4-PO-DMT / Psilocybin
4-Acetoxy-dimethyltryptamine / 4-AcO-DMT / Psilacetin
4-Hydroxy-N-methyl-N-ethyltryptamine / 4-**-MET / Metocin
4-Acetoxy-N-methyl-N-ethyltryptamine / 4-AcO-MET / Metacetin
4-Acetyloxy-N,N-dipropyltryptamine / 4-AcO-DPT / Pracetin
4-Acetoxy-N-methyl-N-cyclopropyltryptmine / 4-AcO-McPT
4-Acetoxy-N-methyl-N-isopropyltryptamine / 4-AcO-MiPT / Mipracetin
4-Hydroxy-N-methyl-N-isopropyltryptamine / 4-**-MiPT / Miprocin
5-Methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine / 5-MeO-DMT / The God, The Power
5-Methoxy-N-methethyltryptamine / 5-MeO-MET / The Vision
5-Methoxy-N,N-diallyltryptamine / 5-MeO-DALT / Foxtrot
5-Methoxy-N-diisopropyltryptamine / 5-MeO-DiPT / Foxy
5-Methoxy-N-methyl-N-isopropyltryptamine / 5-MeO-MiPT / Moxy
Each of our interior universes differ, their exploration is not a competition.
This list is merely a personal reference for my own psychoactive history.
I have come to disavow psychonautics in favor of phenomenology or philosophy of mind.
Ryan P Kinney Dec 2015
The Phoenix
(To Love and Lose Part 2)
by Ryan Kinney

It started with a broken heart. Through the crack seeped liquid fire. It engulfed me, burning away all that I was. The flames shall purify me. Boil me down to my base components, and then rebuild me. From the ashes will rise a new entity.

Who am I?

Following my divorce I began an identity quest dubbed The Phoenix. It is my own personal trial by fire. Fire is the essence of life itself. As it destroys it also creates. I will create a new life from the remnants of my former, a persona not defined by another.

Chapter 1-The Quest

Depression and Suicide
“…my life before you was very chaotic and unstable. You were the stability I needed and the foundation on which I built my life.  I never doubted that you would always be there for me. You were my rock. Of all the people that had disappointed me you never let me down. Yet you did, You pulled the rug out from under me without warning and the foundation upon which I built my entire life crumbled…” –email correspondence to Lisa; Nov. 21, 2008

It took four months to undo ten years of my life. A debilitating depression overwhelmed me. I never saw anything in my life, but Lisa. What did I have left without her? What would I do? Darkness clouded my heart.

A rusty blade in my hand. A message in blood written on the broken mirror.
I lay in the tub, leaking crimson life. In my haze I barely make out the words.
What does my final message to the world say? I cannot remember why it hurt so much.
In a few minutes it won’t matter anymore. What the hell did I write?
I can only think of one thing that torments me enough to drive me to this darkness.
Trailing down in letters, clotting on the wall…
“I loved you.”

This revolving drama played on a loop in my mind. I was lost, a walking corpse. All I felt was cold hollowness.
“All that is left is emptiness, an empty house, an empty soul.”-journal excerpt; Oct. 6, 2008
I so badly just wanted the hurt to stop. In my tunnel vision existence I was oblivious to those whose hearts bled for mine. All my substance and passion was gone. Lisa took my heart with her and left nothing inside. Without her my existence seemed meaningless. The cloaked figure smiled, offering me the almost irresistible temptation of sweet release.
“Do I give in to the darkness? Let it consume me”-journal excerpt
Ultimately, though, there came a day when I awoke from the fog. I was living outside myself watching this unknown drone on a worthless trek. One phrase finally broke through the shell.
“What a waste!”
The Phoenix was born in that moment. The match was struck to light the way on the difficult road to recovery.
“The pieces of my soul are on the floor for everyone to trample on.”-journal excerpt; Oct. 6, 2008
I was in over my head. I needed help. A therapist helped at first, but the relationship quickly cheapened because I was essentially paying for a friendship. Antidepressants proved to work too well. I have a manic level of natural intensity. Lexapro ignited fireworks inside my brain. Both, however, gave me the nudge I needed to help myself. Eventually, I grew beyond the need for crutches. A previously unrecognized army of supporters each lent their kindling to the fires. One day at a time I battled my inner demons until I was ready to accept happiness again.
“You will be amazed on how much of the original Ryan is back. Why? Because I'm over my depression about change because something I feared more came to fruition.  I lost you.  I'm doing my best to survive from that, but my past fears now seems trivial and meaningless in comparison.”-email correspondence to Lisa; Sept. 8, 2009

Denial and Desperation
“Run, Run away Ryan. Open another book, turn on the TV, surf the Net. Delve into your fantasies and escape reality. It’s how you survived your childhood…”-journal excerpt; Oct. 2, 2008
The cracks in my facade were beginning to show. I shielded myself in delusions. I lied to myself to soften the full scope of Lisa’s betrayal. I more than lied. I was absolutely sure. I trusted her with my life. I trusted a lie. I was living a lie. I betrayed myself more than she ever did. The realizations came in shards, each piece punching holes in my heart.
I wallowed in self-pity and desolation.
I yearned so badly to feel some warmth, anybody’s warmth.

The New Girls
Upon Lisa’s departure I sought to quench my loneliness in the convenient woman around me. For a moment’s time, they took pity on me.
Rebound-I immediately sought solace in the arms of a good friend. She’s always shown me nothing but love and idolization. I was ashamed for disrespecting her and our friendship. I knew full well that our brief encounters were all that would ever be between us.
Crazy Chick-She was a brute of a woman, yet conversely, very maternal and comforting. She had a unique talent for forcefully ripping out my raw emotions, breaking through the masks. As she said, though, “I’m not Lisa.” Pathetically, that’s exactly what I wanted.
One Night Stand-ups-Several brief encounters fed my addiction for attention. Like a ****** with a needle, my appetite grew. Desperation was becoming my scarlet letter.
“…but it did seem that the thing we are most proud of and the thing we are most ashamed of are but the front and the back of the same coin. They torture and thrill all at once.”-Grotesque; Natsuo Kirino
I felt guilty and *****, yet loved for but an instant. These experiences were very cathartic. I had completely lost the ability to cry, feel pain, rage, or joy. They were the prefect drug, just so that I may feel again. Without these women to reopen the wounds, the numbness would have consumed me.
“Every angel has a little devil inside them.”-Manda; 2009
What attracted me to these women was mock chivalry. Each had their own “hard luck” story. So ingrained in me is the comic book ideal of heroism that I constantly seek to rescue the damsel in distress. Women will always be my kryptonite. However, as Crazy Chick put it, “ When is it time for you to be rescued?” The divine irony is, it was they who saved me.
It too, was not to last. A long period of isolation followed, as the women grew tired of babysitting me. Another lie to myself, a band-aid on a wound desperately needing stitches.

The Crush
Hers was the first light I allowed to pierce the darkness. She did more to heal me than any who said, “Yes.” Her secret, she said, “No.”
It has always been my curse to be eternally misunderstood and underestimated. I could see her scars bled the same as mine, although hers had begun to clot long ago. I am attracted to those who have a depth chiseled by adversity.
I identified with her. Her intelligence far exceeded my own, an Einstein in a circus. My eyes saw straight to her soul, seeing only the gorgeous woman she was on the inside. My friends would point out my eyes would sparkle whenever I spoke of her.
Yes, I loved her, but only in transition. We came from different worlds, but met as wounded soldiers on the battlefield. She was the catalyst to open my eyes. A sweet smile for my shredded soul.
“A worn beaten heart trapped in by bars.” From “Painless” by Tracy Reed
She held the key to my self-imposed imprisonment. My growing frustration with her opened the door for my transformation. For all her grace, all her amazing potential, she was wasting away in the same feeding trough as me.
“You can do better.”
Then it hit me…
“I can do better!”
I began to rebuild my empire. My never-queen rejected me…
I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The Emotional Spectrum
“Stuck in a prison of abstract ideas and overpowering emotions.”-Zach; mypsace blog
Shock
1) ‘I don’t love you anymore.”
2) Letter…”I can’t wait until my divorce is over!”
3) Ryan-“So I guess this means we’re getting a divorce.”
Lisa-“Well, yeah. You knew that.”
4) “Ryan, they’re together, and have been.”
5) “I’m moving out.”
6) “By the State of Ohio, I hereby grant this dissolution.”-Judge; Dec. 30, 2008

Six bullets to my heart, six separate, devastating phrases that brought about Armageddon. I gave her a decade of my meager existence, nearly half my life. She threw me away like garbage, and couldn’t have been happier.

Fear
As the gun smoke drifted, I clutched my breast. I was frozen in horror that I’d lose myself along with her. Fear, you see, was the beginning of the end for our marriage.
I never dealt well with change. When we bought our house, the combat that ensued left me crippled. I ultimately built myself into a comfort zone again. “I don’t know what I want to do” was always an excuse for me. I lay stagnant and complacent with no true purpose or direction.
It was Lisa that first took action. She sought to elevate us from the ranks of lower middle class into which we were born. I fought her, determined to lay docked in the doldrums. “Leave me alone in my bubble.” I made attempts, but with each failure became depressed. She became frustrated and took matters into her own hands. It is obvious she loved me then. She worked effortlessly to give us a better life.
I was blind to the truth and in time Lisa lost sight of her motives. She plodded on, mechanically, no longer sure of why. She drove herself to extreme exhaustion, afraid, that if she stopped, for even a moment, she’d realize it was all for naught. She lost faith in our combined, bright vision.
So, she did the only thing she knew how. She ran away, straight to another as miserable as her. She kept running, further and further, taking greater risks. All just to not have to feel her own hollowness.
She left and my phobia ended there. What followed was a newfound fear. “I don’t know what I want to do” became “What the hell do I do?” I was afraid I was doomed to be alone the rest of my life.

Sadness
“Are you ok?”
“We’re worried about you.”
“How are you, Ryan?”…

“MISERABLE!”-Ryan

I always speak the truth. I’ve never felt so surrounded and alone in all my life.

Anger
“Like koi in a ***** pond, you can see your rage barely hiding below the surface.”-Erin Kompik
The most intense rage fueled The Phoenix. I lashed out at everything. Everyone was burned. I was ******* and the world would pay. The spectacle burned so bright it threatened to eradicate all that I was.
“I can feel bitterness and anger coming. I am fighting for control over the anger”-journal excerpt; Oct. 1, 2008
“The seams in my heart leak nothing, but hostility.”-journal excerpt; Oct. 6, 2008
“I’ve become a monster. I once loved someone so hard I would die for her. Now all I can feel is scorn and hate. My heart is twisted and black. I fear I will become the bitter man my father is. I hate myself for being so.”-journal excerpt; Sept. 30, 2008
Who was I so angry with? For all the hurt I felt from Lisa, I was most angry at myself. How could I let this happen? How could I have been so blind? My blood boiled as I berated myself. The loss I suffered left my heart festering with hatred, as nothing but fire and volatility overtook it.
“The red light of rage is violent action without consideration of consequence. It is uncontrollable. So I will unleash it.”-Final Crisis, Rage of the Red Lanterns
Then, the root of another anger broke through the fury.
“I know that you may not see it now, but time really will heal these wounds.”-Michelle Kinney
She was right. I had absolved myself of my original rage. I had forgiven her. I could forgive myself. I couldn’t be held responsible for another’s irresponsibility. The anger dissipated into the smoke. It left behind a few flickers, but I’ll not extinguish them yet. I still have a use for that rage.
“Do not be afraid to expose the darkness. Only by bringing it to the light can it ever truly be resolved.”-audio journal excerpt; Aug. 16, 2009

Love and Happiness
During my marriage, hers was the only love I let myself feel. Then, she took it with her when she left. I felt scorned and unwanted, a refuse of human waste.
I was wrong. I am a man that seeks love as an end all for my existence. Lisa unlocked my caged heart. Over the next decade I cultivated relationships with countless individuals. There was more love in my life than I ever realized. They were there when she wasn’t. My parents sacrificed everything to give me a life and family they never had. Lisa’s family had become my permanent family. She divorced me. I did not divorce them. All my friends gave all they could. Even my harsh enemies stepped off the battlefield, for they understood the casualties of this war. All of them, a shining sea of compassion, poured their hearts into mine. Their light overcame the darkness. When I finally crawled out of the pit, they got me to my feet.
“For them, I must continue.”-Naoko Takeuchi
I had to be strong. I owed it to them to survive. They gave me their love to fill in my missing pieces. For all I had been given, I could never give up or give in.
“I am meant for greatness. I am meant for happiness, for joy, for me.”-Zach; myspace blog

Chapter 2-Evolution

Picking up the Pieces
“I need to be out there.
Living.
Looking for my own life…
I need to open my mouth.
I need to be heard.
I need to live.
You’re gone…
I’m not.”
-Goth Girl Rising; Barry Lyga.
It was time to rebuild that which had been broken. My life was fragmented chaos. I needed an order to the chaos, or more to my tastes, organized chaos; anarchy with purpose. I learned to become a master strategist. The civil war I waged on myself demanded a general.
STEP 1-Stabalize finances.
My pact with the devil to keep my beloved home required emptying the coffers completely. How delicious the irony that I wound up working the same long weeks as Lisa.  Hard work and sacrifice were absolute necessities if I was ever to afford to live again. It was Lisa that taught me that. The only difference, I must never lose sight of why. Money is not the reason for existence. I simply needed enough to achieve my goals.
“Money is nothing.  It is an imaginary concept.  Its only value is what we put into it.  While often a necessary evil to survive, it is not important.  The only possession of true value is time.”- The Most Valuable Possession; 2009
STEP 2-Tear down the Mausoleum.
My home had become a testament to a dead marriage. Lisa’s five day moving notice threw a grenade into my living space. It was disheveled and disorganized. It was no longer Ryan and Lisa’s. I had to reclaim it as my own. Out of respect for our past, I kept a few pieces of Lisa as a constant reminder. I will never forget where I’ve been.
“Your spirit helped build this place and it still flows through its walls.”-email correspondence to Lisa; Nov. 21, 2008
Physically putting my environment in order likewise put my mind into an order. As I rebuilt my home, it became the new foundation for my life. The Phoenix had a place to perch.
STEP 3-Know Happiness again.
“I seem to find that my great periods of change, evolution, and growth precede an ultimate betrayal from someone I’ve let close to my heart. Is survival mode the only way I can fuel my passion? Where do I find the love that ignites my will, yet does not drive me to complacency?”-audio journal; Aug 13, 2009
The answer, I needed to love myself again. I could not rely on someone else to complete me. I had to become independent, to be ok with being alone. I deserved to be happy, to be loved, above all, by myself.
This was going to be hard.

Breaking Codependency
Not having another physical body in the house left a void. Without another heartbeat close to mine, I stopped sleeping at night. My appetite was lost and I started shedding pounds. With my depression receding, I awoke to find I was living in a desolate wasteland. What would I do in this solitary confinement?
Utilizing survival skills my mother taught me, I used it. Ever the artist, I took the pieces and created an existence. Then I improved it, again and again. Loneliness is a disease that attacks only if you let it. I had to learn to accept myself, before I could expect anyone else to. I used the loneliness to redefine and rediscover myself. I would not rely on anyone to do for me. My honor and respect for my loved ones demanded I do for myself. The stifling quiet, the sleepless nights taught independence. The silence used to frustrate and anger me. Now, I use it for peaceful reflection and meditation. Th
ivory Feb 2014
it’s a pen of bulls in your stomach
the wonder, the not-knowing, the what-ifs, whens coulds and might-bes
the numbers on an oxygen tank dwindling down

too many thoughts becoming their own creatures,
tearing down cities that we carry inside

it’s leaves shivering from an island wind,
the people running away from shore

that moment when you slip on ice and you don’t know if you’ll catch yourself

it’s dying, not knowing where you’ll go
and space, not comprehending how vast

counting all the possibilities in the universe and only thinking
about the most horrific ones
some of us always live in worst case scenarios
and i,
have not yet mastered the art of surviving them.
tread Aug 2013
cipralex pulsates thru veins,
dilutes blood to make me happ
-hey! legs seize in weird ache
- - dreamless sleeps where I
may not even be sleeping - -
wake up exhausted - - but basis
energy covered! so day survival
possible - - sometimes combination
of coffee + cip (cip of coffee)
cause tremors - - moments of 'ahhhgg'
panic attack redirected to calm productivity
- - day 5? since prescribed - - they say
2 to 6 weeks. I'll be patient.
just started on an antidepressant for the first time in my life. it has weird little side effects. gonna pick up some melatonin today so I can legitimately fall asleep.
Hannah Wild Jul 2011
A classmate exclaimed
As Mrs. Ragan shoved
An Aladdin mug
In my face as I
Gained consciousness
During sixth grade
Art class

My first seizure

The depression started
Soon after

10mg of lexapro
Five thereapists
Three neurologists
Doctors ****

Middle school was
A Deep Dark
Dooming Depression
I had no friends
I hated everyone
And everything
But mostly
I hated myself

Wishing I had drowned
Or never woke up from
My first seizure
kyla marie Apr 2014
I'm often faced with the question
"why don't you just take medicine?"

Zoloft
Prozac
Lexapro
Paxil

do they take away the memories
or replace the words slipping through their mouths?
do they stop the fluttering of thoughts racing around my tired brain?
do those tiny capsules create apologies or never said goodbyes?
do they stop my thoughts at the late hours of the night?
do the scars on my wrists magically disapear?
do they erase the images of every bad thing that's ever happened?
do they suddenly make me good enough for everyone I wasn't?
Maddie May 2022
You are round, white,
and easy to break –
just like me.

Over-the-counter candy to cure
my sour serotonin syndrome.
You help my body become
a sweet, symmetrical poem.

You spell the words
Medication Management,
Adjustment,
and Patience
on the tip of every
neurotransmitter I own.

Oh Lexapro,
sweet placebo,
thank you for making me
dizzy with dopamine.
Thank you for changing my clock.
Now, I’m geared toward making it

To my next pill,
to my next refill,
to my next daffodil,
and my next windmill.

You are my daylight,
my daylight saving time.
Anna May 2013
Oh God, they’re coming
Those bloodthirsty hounds.

Tangled roots catch my feet
As I weave through the myriad of trees.

Nowhere to hide.
No shadow for refuge

Where they won’t find me,
Those ******-driven hunters.

Knowing me better than myself
Able to predict every step I take.

Running from them for so long
My feet have grown tired.

Being kept at bay
They have become impatient and strong.

I feel their hot breath on my neck.
I hear the pads of their feet pounding the ground.

I scream out for anyone to help
But my cry falls on deaf ears.

The nasty creatures pin me to the ground,
Stealing the air from my lungs.

Forcing me to look into its cold blue eyes
I feel it overtake me.

Its icy venom seeps into my bones,
Polluting my mind. My soul. My body.

Taking possession.
I feel its stone grasp.

The emotions course through my body,
Flooding the numb temple I had kept.

A silent tear escapes my eye,
That disgusting abomination.

Oh God,
Make it stop.
Sam Oct 2018
Thank you..
for getting me out of bed.
for feeding me more.
for silencing the voice,
the cruel one in my head.
Thank you Lexapro
for keeping me here.
BLD Jan 3
My mother cannot find her camera,
and I wondered if I'd left it with you.

My stomach churns like the deck of a ship
amid a raging mid-Atlantic tempest,
its bowels tender and full of friction,
a morose resentment of an azure message sent.

The Dungan name supports its own;
the pain of one is felt by the majority,
an empathetic woe of a blessing understated,
our emotional reason ranging far and true.

One text sent and the world turns dim;
I've tried to manage the mania and valleys
of the experiences endemic to our core,
but the truth remains that I've not healed at all.

I can envision the late New York nights,
our Hoboken studio glimmering in the sunset,
the white walls imprinted with our fingertips;
open bottles of wine half-drank scattered around
while the subway roars underneath the Hudson
as it zips to a jolting halt.

Meanwhile, the scars embedding my skin
have healed themselves through and clear,
yet the bruises around the perimeter remain,
their coarse outlines distant reminders
of the pitfalls of the love we once shared.

Fire and ice juxtapose into a glass of lager,
a cool glide down the warm embrace of my throat;
nightly cocktails of Lexapro, Lamictal, and Hydroxyzine
haven't succeeded in easing the terrors
plaguing my core in the brightest of nights --
it is surmisable that these wounds are lethal,
but I refuse to succumb once more to your flaws.

My mother cannot find her camera,
and I wondered if I'd left it with you.

Whether it lay with your father and his bourbon
or your mother and her manipulating lies
or your brother and his ignorant resolutions
or your friends and their misogynistic gazes,
I cannot say,
yet I felt compelled to outstretch my fingertips
as a solemn branch of the willow tree
waving in the wind, scattering in the breeze,
an innocent attempt to brush aside the despondency,
a sprout into maturity to digress from the winds
raging between us while residing so far apart.

Never truly have I possessed a hatred so seething
than the alps of brimstone in the frame of you.

My mother cannot find her camera,
and I wondered if I'd left it with you.

Perhaps I should have remained in oblivion,
restrained myself from the shackles of your presence.
Still, I refuse to conform to the demands of those
unaware of the true nature of my nightmares,
their benevolent intentions disregarding my truth,
white wisps of flowers stained with brutal crimson,
inching its way down the crevices of my mouth
while I reel away and encapsulate the open flesh
I'd just bitten through with this impulsive decision.  

But still...
my mother could not find her camera,
and I'd only wondered
if I'd left it with you.
manicsurvival Aug 2013
I worry that the only reason I have to write is because no one will listen to me
I can't leak my thoughts to my psychologist or psychiatrist or parent because I know that my words aren't safe and that legality triumphs anything I say
I know that I'm like lava at its boiling point, about to erupt
I know that I'm self destructive and that things are only getting worse
I have so much to say, maybe if I told the entirety of the truth, I could be helped
But I fear the corrupt system too much
And I don't want to say anything to my parents because they have watched my prolonged mental distress and they have seen my breakdowns and hysterical fits and they've heard my screams
I've been medicated
SSRIs and Xanax and Ativan and Prozac and Klonopin and Lexapro
I've spent hours in a therapist's office, only to censor my life and hear a psychology major regurgitate everything I already know
I can't stand it anymore
I want to be high on **** forever and laugh at nothingness
I want to be drunk to the point where I forget that life is even a thing
I want to kiss his lips and touch him every moment of the day because I'd feel loved even if I wasn't
I hate what has happened
I hate what is happening
I hate that I've changed
I hate how hard I try because the payoff never seems to pay off
And that I try to keep changing but everything isn't enough and everything won't ever cut it
I don't know what to do
I need endorphins and serotonin and beta-blockers and benzos
I need to know that this isn't a never ending cycle
I need to know that what I'm feeling is temporary and that this isn't what my life will be like
I need to tell my therapist and my doctor and my psychiatrist that I don't know what to do anymore and that the thoughts that control me are no longer bearable because I know that I want to live
I know however, that if I say the wrong thing, my words will be reported to DCFS and I could be baker acted and I don't want that to happen
So all I have in the end are my thoughts, killing me inside every moment of everyday
Tearing me apart like my lungs can no longer expand
Like my heart can no longer pump
Because my mind controls everything, and everything is in flames
Arden Dec 2019
If I think harder do I burn more calories

Does being hot or cold burn more calories

Silent night time exercise

how many calories in
           lexapro
           ibuprofen
           air
           saliva

how many calories did Auschwitz prisoners eat

is diy liposuction possible

what body parts can you live without

could they have poured calories in this water

how to give myself the flu

can thinking about food make you fat

how much does a finger weigh
please don't hate or make fun of me for the things I have wondered. I am mean enough to myself.
Liz McLaughlin Mar 2013
Don’t stand so close to me
God knows I hate you for it
standing miles high and reaching down
arms stretched out in the 2am
screaming pull yourself up god ******

but my flailing hand passes through yours
like some sort of hologram
leave a message after the beep—you're not there
my nails are filled with dirt from the grave I’m digging

because hello my name is Atlas
and I got this world on my shoulders
it weighs four years
and they call it high school
they colored me Goliath
—some intellectual behemoth
and potential equals mgh, variable being height
but David felled me in an empty forest
and I didn’t make a sound

they rushed me toward a hospital
morphine (or was it lexapro?)
running through leaking veins
sir, her GPA is flat lining
please just let her go

but I keep thinking of that song
Pale Green Things
and--what happened to my baby?!--
my grandmother getting the call

so I’ll let my spine tear through my rice paper back
as I curl up to hold it in
and hope to God
that some other kid  
will bring in his daddy’s paranoia
(hidden in a cardboard box beneath the bed)
to show and tell

and he’d let me take a little lead home
please not in the head
I never liked a mess
Ryan Kerr Oct 2013
Endless streams of chemicals pumped into my veins
For the white coats, I was simply an experiment.
Prozac, Lexapro, and Wellbutrin
Every one of them failed to help.
But that's when I realized,
That you are the only remedy I could ever need.
Anna Aug 2014
I find myself longing for my faith. But nothing can make me believe in a God anymore, or even want to worship him.

2. I guess I just miss being naïve.

3. Sleeping pills.

4. Finding out that taking too much Lexapro makes me throw up for hours on end.

5. Finding out that taking more Lexapro won't make the sadness go away. It sits in the corner, waiting for me to come running back to it.

6. I run.

7. I'm scared.

8. I'm scared of death.

9. I'm scared of living.

10. I'm stuck.

11. I've allowed myself to think about your death. I've been in denial for so long...I guess I was just waiting to see you in the crowd one day.

12. Dying does not make you a ******* saint.

13. I want to cut again. I miss it more than anything. But I can't handle disappointing my parents.

14. I feel bad for my suicide attempt. I'm disgusted with myself that I made my family go through that. But I am a selfish person.

15. I am so alone.
I can't tell if I've made any progress in my year and half recovery. Probably not.
Alyssa May 2015
Sixteen
and taking my first sip of alcohol
and ******* DOES THIS TASTE.....
like absolute ****,
how the **** do you guys even drink this stuff?
Shots?
like from the doctors? Yeah I got all mine.
Oh you mean like, (makes shot-taking motion)
.....yep I'll have a few more drinks.
You said I'd feel better in 15 minutes
but it's been an hour and a half
and I guess I'm still waiting.
But I really hate sitting on this couch by myself
because I think I could actually be stuck here forever.

Eighteen
and it's the summer before my first year of college.
I'm sitting on my friend's back porch
killing a bottle of whiskey by myself
because I'm still waiting for those 15 minutes to go by
so I can feel better.
I now need more than one bottle
and my BAC has been at a consistent .15 for last three weeks
don't ask me how I got here.
Better yet,
don't ask me how I drove here.
I convinced myself that drowning my liver
was a lot better than drowning myself
but now I can't tell the difference
because I always feel like choking.
The same way the face made by my ex girlfriend did
when I said I had *** for the first time since her.
It was the same face I made
the first time I took a sip of whiskey without a mixer,
her face twisted together sour lemon
and I can only imagine the burning feeling she got in her throat.
But now I can drink whiskey just fine
and I'm sure she doesn't remember what I taste like either.

Three months into my first semester
I'm still waiting for those fifteen minutes
even though the clock says I've been awake for 34 hours straight.
At this point,
if I don't drink
my skin crawls with the bugs underneath of it
and I've started to wonder if I'll have to **** myself to make this stop.

Two days ago,
i found out how content i would be
if i died,
if my blood poured out broken faucet
and i turned soft clay
in a cocoon of metal,
glass littering the street
so God could see the reflection,
see where to pick me up at.
I imagine it like a taxi,
there's a price to pay
to get all the way to the gates,
it just depends on how much
you're willing to sacrifice.
I never knew salvation required negotiation.
But I guess it was the same way
I bargained my life with
emptying the canister of xanax
and lexapro;
counting them,
wondering how many it would take
to make people miss me.
I already missed me.
I haven't known what i feel like sober
in three years
even though i've stopped drinking.
I told myself i would rather be dead
than medicated,
but here i am,
three years intoxicated,
making love to whiskey bottles
with only the tips of my fingers.
They told me love is now
a fatal thing to put my tongue on,
but i think my lips would die for that.
My mouth waters at the thought.
Love used to be a half-drank box of wine,
the other 2.5 liters already crossed
the threshold of my stomach.
I know you said, "drink this
and you'll feel better in 15 minutes."
But I can't remember
how long it's been
since i've started feeling like this
and i'm not sure
if one more drink
or one more pill
will make this stop.
i'm not sure
if any of this was worth it.

— The End —