Dear Mr. Fantasy

Thanks to the wonders of better living through chemistry, I'm no longer a jagged, desperate, suicidal train wreck.  Be that as it may, there are times when my melancholic depression kicks it up a notch, and leaves me feeling... blah.  Disinterested, detached, uninspired, like I'm just going through the motions.  I've been in just such a funk for well over a month now.  With sincere apologies to Jefferson Airplane, one pill makes me frantic, the other makes me calm.  I don't know what my third pill does, but I know what it should do:  be my own, personal Mr. Fantasy.  Do anything, take me out of this gloom.  And make it snappy.