I was forty five years old
When my life fell apart
I’d been getting antsy since forty
I’d been gradually losing heart
For working in an office environment
Managing clients and staff
Sitting at endless meetings
Endlessly chewing over chaff
I had a god job, interesting
I certainly was well paid
My hours were easy, got in after 9
My course to retirement was laid
It came one Tuesday morning
During the weekly status round
Twenty people discussing their petty troubles
While I was spinning into the ground
I ended up downstairs in my car
The place I’d go for a smoke
I was beating my head on the steering wheel
“I need help” I repeatedly spoke
That night I had to lead focus groups
Which is like performing a play
It requires energy and empathy
And you have to make sure to stay
Focussed on the topic at hand
Not allowing distractions to pass
But all I could hear from the client lounge
Was laughter and knocking on glass
This threw me into a rage
(Rage being my default state)
I stormed into where the clients were watching
Lost control just the way I hate
I cursed them all out of there
(They were bankers from the states)
I went and hid in the bathroom
And started to shake and shake
I got an appointment with a shrink
A crusty old Freudian guy
He listened to my story carefully
Then looked me in the eye
“You’re bipolar” he said
“And you’re also a drunk.
Go and quit drinking
Get back to me in a month”
I checked into rehab in August
Intending to stay 28 days
I made it into the second week
Before we parted ways
A couple of nights in detox
Was all I really required
I didn’t relish spending a month
With all the badly wired
The best thing that happened in rehab
With the volleyball, long walks and eating
Was having a convicted murderer
Lead our first AA meeting
Once I’d broken out of the place
And was back in the city glowing pink
I settled back in and went to meetings
And then booked a session with the shrink
I only got him for 15 minutes
Once in every three weeks
Mostly we talked cameras and watches
But he’d watch for my valleys and peaks
If I appeared too happy
He’d dial the Prozac right down
And I’d feel the effects immediately
It was like I wanted to drown
He was the best person to talk to
And he knew just how to prick my balloon
But he got esophageal cancer
And died way too soon
I was sober and clean for 3 months
Until I found some weed in a shoe
I’d been buzzing with mania without it
This was what I needed, I knew
Ever since then my regimen
Has been 2 grams of pills a day
That stuff keeps me dull and normal
It’s the weed that keeps me gay
I actually have government scrip
For 5 grams of weed a day
I order it regularly online
And use a credit card to pay
So, in order to get all normalled up
I had to get fucked up first
But now I don’t live with rage
And I’ve lost my prodigious thirst
Better living through chemistry
Is our motto my dear friend
Just see a shrink, take your meds
And you’ll feel better in the end