A Poem: “I Went to a Psychiatrist”

A Poem:
"I Went to a Psychiatrist"

I went to a psychiatrist

Because I was depressed.

I could not find my joie de vivre,

Nor could I get good rest.

A vision of calamity

Weighed heavy on my breast.

 

Relations with my wife had grown

Peculiarly tense.

All that I said perturbed her,

I felt always on defense.

In fury I destroyed a vase,

Which heightened our suspense.

 

My son and his had parted

And the grandchildren were pained.

Financial stresses added up

And thus my worries rained,

So I gave in to the darkness,

In my bedroom I remained.

 

“I’ll bet they have a pill for that,”

My daughter to me said,

And told me I should see a shrink

To fix my ailing head,

And with no other plan at hand

To treatment I was led.

 

When I came into his office

I was feeling rather bold.

I sat down and poured my heart out

So my tale was fully told,

But it wasn’t very long before

The doctor stopped me cold.

 

“That’s enough about your problems,

I don’t have such time to kill.

What’s the matter doesn’t matter,

All these symptoms say you’re ill,

So let’s get right down to business.

Time to choose your special pill.”

 

“I’m above inane emotions,

Always sober and aloof.

You’ve a chemical imbalance

Though I don’t have any proof,

I’m a doctor and I’m saying so

And that means it’s the truth.”

 

“I am skilled at polypharmacy

It’s what I’ve learned to do,

In case one pill won’t work,

I’ll add another drug or two.

Have a therapeutic cocktail

And a pharmaceutic stew.”

 

“This depression is no problem,

Your emotions I’ll unfetter.

With some Zoloft or Celexa

We’ll soon have you feeling better,

But if your love life’s still alive

This might well make it deader.”

 

“You’re most certainly bipolar

If such passions you must vent,

We’ve got lithium to treat you

If your kidneys are not spent,

And if they are, I’m sure some

Other drug will make a dent.”

 

“Like Tegretol or Topamax,

They both work pretty great,

Some Trileptal or Depakote

Might keep you more sedate,

And certainly Lamictal’s fine

If five weeks you can wait.”

 

“This pill might just be good for you

But might just make you fatter,

And if you shake there’s pills to take

To surely fix that matter,

But just in case, you ought to know

They could shut down your bladder.”

 

“They say Buspar helps anxiety

But I’m not sure that’s true,

The only meds that really work

Are really bad for you.

The DEA is on my back,

Hydroxyzine will do.”

 

I picked up the prescriptions,

But I never took a pill.

Instead I pondered my existence

While alone I climbed a hill,

And discovered deep acceptance

Once I’d had some time to chill.

 

My son’s divorce went well

And to this change I was resigned,

Then my wife confessed her fears

That I had cheating on my mind!

With tears we cleansed that matter,

Then our budget we aligned.

 

When I saw the shrink we never

Really touched on how I feel,

Or what I thought my problems were,

Or how I ought to deal,

He never did acknowledge that

The shit of life is real.

 

If you’re a shrink you might well think

That writing this is sleazy,

Such bitter tone and disrespect

Might make you feel queasy.

Shall I prescribe a pill for you?

It’s really easy-peasy….

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© 2019 Paul Minot MD
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