'Tis a strange malady that I do suffer
It bewilderith and perplexith me.
From whence it cometh I do not know,
and where it will leadeth me I cannot
imagine.
It frightens me not to know my enemy,
and to be unable to confront him directly.
He graspeth me early in the morning and
robbeth me of my slumber, and only weakens
his grasp as the day progresses.
He dwindleth me of my energy and denies
me of my power of concentration.
Who is this unseen assailant?
The comforts of the evening and the prospects
of sleep are always tempered by the thoughts
that the next morning he will
return again with his weapons of anxiety and depression.
All I know is that the enemy hideth within
me and is not an external antagonist.
I've been reassured that the pathologic process
is reversible, and that time and medication
are essential for my recovery.
Oh, if only time could be compressed and the
effects of the medicine could be accelerated.
Wouldn't it be wonderful!
Charles E. Jacobson, Jr.
(6/14/81)
or