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….
