Saturday, December 29, 2007

Till Death Do Us Part

"I, Brie, take you, Assorted Anti-depressants, to be my husband in helping maintain my sanity and breakdowns, to have and to swallow faithfully everyday, from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, until death do us part."

You may now swallow the pills.

I want a divorce, man.

For nine years I've been taking these little pills with promises of happiness, and really, they never deliver. At least, not how the commercials make them out to be. Have you seen the TV ad for Cymbalta? You feel so bad for the damn dog who wants its master to walk it, but poor Unnamed Woman is too busy being hopeless and incapacitated with grief and despair to get out of bed and walk Pooch. But then: TADA! In comes Cymbalta to the rescue, and suddenly she's laughing in some meadow or something playing frisbee with Pooch. And I'm sure the two of them live happily ever after. I mean, the ad wasn't that long, so I'll never really know, but I like to think it ends that way.

So I'm on Cymbalta, (among a few others) and I haven't had any kind of happy ending in a meadow or anything close to it. Maybe it's because I don't have a dog? I'm not sure. I may have to look into that. But that's not the point. The point is that I have been so dissatisfied over the years with my medication, that I always, about every year or so, try going off of all of them to see if my psyche can function without the help of manufactured happiness. And, apparently I can't. Last time I was off my medication, I nearly was hysterical because I had some freaky deaky auditory hallucination in which my Mental Kitten, Hairy, lost her arm. It was bad. Funny, but bad.

I am now forced to reconcile with the fact that there's pretty much oh, you know, a snowball's chance in Hiz-nell that I'll ever live this durn life without the aid of good 'ol manufactured happiness. Because as unsatisfied as I am with their productivity, apparently when I'm not on them, I go from being totally, you know, wack, to pretty pathetically out of wack. So it is with a very heavy heart I resign myself to this unhappy marriage I am in. I'll file no more petitions for divorce, and I'll keep swallowing the damn pills, because I have finally allowed myself to acknowledge the fact that I'm a crazy psycho raving bitch with out them. True dat.

Okay, I'm out folks. Much love. I gotta jet to the pharmacy for some more good 'ol happiness. Er, if not happiness, and no happy endings, then at least my cat keeps all of her limbs. And that's better than nothing, I guess. Yes. I think it is.


heather said...

This is great! I love your analogy. I had a doctor tell me once that I am "medicinally-intolerant." I'm thinking he's most likely correct. So what's one to do? As for me, I got back on klonopin to deal with my anxiety issues, however they don't do a damn thing. It's most discouraging! As for you, I hope you have a long and happy medicinal marriage and that you take a honeymoon worth the ride!

heather said...

And one more do you get all those cool pics on your blog page?

KC Elaine said...

oh, isn't it a shame we're a mess without them? I hear you. I try going off them every now and then too. always end up hysterically crying, either that or fearing death (I'm not kidding).

allie said...

i LOVE reading your blogs!!! you always make me smile! seriously! i don't know how you do it, but your writing captivates me. :) thanks for the ride.

ps call me sometime!!

Emily said...

I completely understand... I, too, depend on manufactured happiness, because without it, I usually end up trying to kill myself. Not good. I don't mind taking the pills, as long as they help keep me alive.

Anonymous said...

A sister whom you know can now go to the dentist w/o vallium. An unintended good side-effect from her meds for situational depression. Its obvious that there are real chemical imbalances either coming from the womb or from years and years of fear, sadness and self-loathing. So, we live in the age of medical miracles and chemicals to the brain can make a difference even in a little girl who couln't speak and now can.(and you know her too.) Happiness, though, is mainly up to YOU. Just as love is never commanded to be given, it has to be earned, so it is with happiness. You are turning a corner in your life by being willing to examine these issues and still have a SENSE of HUMOR. Cudos!!!!

brydelle said...

I'm sorry that you're resigned to this unhappy/potentially happy marriage. I'm glad that the drugs do help to a degree that your pets get to keep all of their arms, but it's too bad that you have to take them at all. Good post though, with a great sense of humor about something that knocks a lot of people down. I love you.

sav said...

Haha...I love this one Brie! I felt the same as you did. I hated having to go in to my therapist and nurse everyday to take my medication. However, me being stubborn got pissed, walked in and went "You guys can't make me take these meds can you? It is my choice right?" They both obviously advised against it, and I said, "Screw this, I'm going home, and I'm done with meds." It was actually quite humorous, but I have been off them for about 8 months and I've been alright, but I have to admit that I was doing much much better when I was on them so don't be stubborn like I was :)