I'm very aware that in the West, pharmaceuticals are an integral part of our medical treatment. And I am grateful for that in all the forms it comes in to assist with quality and length of life. Working with my GP, I was not surprised that he considered an SSRI as an adjunct to my work with the Psych. Anti - Anxiety meds work well to help calm the fight and flight reflex so it made sense as part of the over all treatment plan. Nonetheless I still nurse some reservations about this. I'm not sure why - after all much of my work has a mental health and pastoral care focus and I would recommend to people seeing their GP and having a conversation about this very thing! So after trying a very common anti-anxiety med for three days . . . . pretty much nothing to report. I felt a bit nauseous and hot for the first two days and today that feels pretty much gone - but I feel like I've just got over the flu. All pretty normal effects apparently and will pass soon ...
overwhelmed n undernourished spaced out n cashed up moving on but hanging out living now n crying later all this techno phobe reinvention redesign rejig reface re re contemplative naval gazing leaves me cold cos its not me - whoever that is? its only little bits which i shine up n make presentable for the general audience all these books n records n words might give ya a way in but no matter what freends I remain a mystery to me to you to the universe . . . have ya noticed most of dem priests n dem musos would be love da mystic the da cosmic dimension finding the out there in here? looking for the big picture and finding it in the blade of grass seeking silence n solitude and then finding themselves in the centre of the world fasting praying loving renouncing then having it all given back to them learn to see learn to hear learn to love thats the journey thats the mystery
blurry mornings weary bones days warm m inds slow sitting waiting longing heart needing warming despite the weather that day which dawns everything still comes too quick it's surprise leaving me breathless solitary as if there is just the child and I as if we two can make the world whole through our shared gaze i have no gift to bring but this torn tired soul bent out of shape a year of encounters leaving their mark the child has no wealth nothing but love
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