“What’s that?” My girlfriend asks pointing to the (now open) middle console.
I had strategically placed two Lexapro there to take discreetly while I visited her in Long Beach for the weekend. I take one a day, everyday.
“Oh that’s Lexapro, it’s an anti-depressant, I actually haven’t taken one today,” grabbing one and popping it in my mouth as nonchalantly as I could, as if I wasn’t hiding the fact that I take anti-depressants from her. I watched her face sink as I washed it down with a stray water bottle.
“Wow dang that suucks.” She wasn’t pleased. “What would happen if you stopped taking them?”
“I would just…be more…depressed than I already am!” a raise and smirk in my expression, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled a little.
“You’re not depressed though.”
“I know it’s because I take them.”
“Whatever, it’s a placebo.”
It’s difficult to describe what clinical Depression feels like because once you’re out of it and thinking clearly again, it’s hard to comprehend and remember how bad it really was. Your complete state of mind is in another dimension by itself. You’re entire reality is painted in relentless, ruthless negativity. The glass is half-empty and you simply can’t see it any other way.
I think the reason I started writing this post is because I’ve lately started to feel the Lexapro wearing off. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew it eventually would. Taking a pill to solve your inner struggle/growth?/am I really depressed or not-who knows!) with life is simply too good to be true. The natural laws of the universe won’t allow it.
Ok so I’ll taper off. I’ll be completely ‘sober’ again. Clean. Hell let’s maybe even kick coffee. Maybe if I simply stick to exercising hard as fuck everyday, drink lots of water, sleep, don’t prank people, don’t even worry about Youtube, just hide out and wait it out, write, read, be alone, over time my neurotransmitters will heal. I’ll achieve Homeostasis.
I won’t laugh as much. I’ll be more serious. Quiet. I’ll stop weed completely. I won’t be able to handle it anymore anyway. I’ll stop drinking, well, I dunno about that. I’ll probably want to drink more. There is this thing people have told me about called self-control though. I should look into that.
I’m not worried. In fact, I’m a little excited. Music will sound better. Movies will be more moving. My orgasms will be more intense. It’s sounds totally backwards but I’ve kind of missed being miserable.
Oh well. Bring it on.
Thanks for reading,
Los Angeles, CA