It occurs to me that if there ever IS a man in this bed, I am such a miserable shit first thing in the morning that I couldn’t let him spend the night. Or he’d have to sleep in another room and agree to leave me alone until the meds, coffee, and a hairbrush make me eligible for human contact.
“Sorry, man. ‘Cute and easygoing’ doesn’t show up ‘til, like, 11. Right now we’re at ‘bridge troll.’”
“Hey, Brain? I acknowledge I’ve made several minor mistakes this morning that could’ve been avoided easily if I were a better organized person. Could you stop being a dick to me about them for just, like, 3 minutes?”
“…Sorry, have we met?”
Listen here, jerkstore — I go see the nice lady tomorrow, and if I tell her you’re getting outta line, she WILL medicate that smug look right off your dumb face, dumbface. Get your shit together.
I feel bad for people who won’t even TRY mental health drugs because they “don’t want to rely on them.”
Well, no, no one WANTS to, but you rely on Lipitor for your cholesterol, right? Maybe a blood pressure med?
Sometimes your body doesn’t give you the things you need, or gives you too much, because your body is an asshole. If I take a Wellbutrin every day and feel LESS like there’s no point in getting out of bed when it’s raining? I’ll call that a win.
This kinda hit home because it’s a blood relative who gets anxiety attacks if they’re around too many people, which…hi… 🙋🏻♀️
Whatever, man — maybe I DO rely on my drugs, but I also no longer break down in Target stores, so…again, win.
I had surgery last year and they gave me Percocet just in case the pain exceeded Advil levels during recovery. It never did, but I still have it, and I’m not GONNA take it recreationally, but…during late-night anxious insomnia, I gotta say, I understand the appeal. My entire body feels clenched, and hush your mouth — I KNOW I probably just need that fucked outta me. 🙄
Sometimes you know you’re smart, but you’re not QUITE “friend who’s almost done med school and has more experience with psych meds” smart…
“So, hey, what are the odds that 5-ish days without Paxil have made me feel like I have PMS on crack?”
“Very high. Paxil withdrawal blows.”
“Ha, yep, I kinda knew that, just wanted to confirm. 🙂 I’ll go fill the prescription. Jesus, Brain, you could’ve just asked for Starbucks — that would’ve gotten me to Target, and hence their pharmacy, minus the 5 days of internal screaming at EVERY mundane life obligation.”
“LOL. Why’d you stop taking it?”
“Oh, just because I’m ridiculous and ran out. They keep letting us work from home so I keep not leaving the house.”
Christ. I’ll go to Target, man, damn. Ahem… tomorrow, probably…