The Cause Is the Cure

I. Drop.

The film-coated capsule into a measuring cup filled with water

Stirring with savant precision, I've done this so many times

Trembling hands struggle to keep hold of the circling spoon

I know once dissolved, the mixture will meet my lips and

Absolve me of this anxiety

Sip from 300ml to 100ml

Save the rest in case I need a top-up, and if I don't...

It's discarded. It's otiose. Just superfluous fluid for another

Day

*

How many consecutive mornings have I stirred?

I need to give my body a break from medication, don't I?

My worst fear is to become tolerant of sorcerous medicine

It helps, though it also harms

! Risks VS Benefits !

As the day brightens and the pros outweigh the cons

I thrive for another morning, knowing the carceral crash is

Destined for late afternoon

Rinsing and repeating for the sorry (am I?) sake of efficacy

This medicine works. At a cost.

(c) Edward Swafford 2026

Author's Note: I battled crippling anxiety and agoraphobia for the better part of 14 years, until I trialed a new medication in 2024.

It acted as a functional "miracle" cure, yet not without physical side effects, which still affect me. Sometimes they make me question how I've found myself in this position.

I essentially take a medication that's causing physiological stress to treat my natural psychological stress.

Untreated psychological stress also causes physiological stress; thus, the benefits of my medication outweigh the drawbacks. It can feel like a looping circle of hyper self-management at times, which is frustrating.

Living an agoraphobic life robbed me of almost everything, and I wouldn't wish a literal "fear of fear" on anyone.

So, at least I'm living a real life now. I keep my chin up and carry the fuck on.

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