Drugs, Experimentation, and Scare Tactics that Brainwash

I had a conversation with my mom today about various topics, one of the topics was my book. We didn't talk about it but I was thinking about the reasons why it's okay to say things that aren't necessarily flattering about yourself in your book. No, there's nothing in my book that actually embarrasses me (that I haven't removed). But, people who read my book will realize that I'm not perfect and that I have made mistakes.

My mind wandered some more throughout the day, and then landed on the subject of drugs. In general, I respect people more who have tried drugs than people who haven't. Particularly people who have been to the bottom and then climbed their way back up. I respect someone like this a lot more than someone who has stayed away from drugs all their life. I respect people who have made mistakes and have had to overcome trials a lot more than people who have been at the top their whole life.

But, back to the subject of merely trying drugs. It's not that I don't respect people who haven't tried drugs. But here's what mildly annoys me: when people act like they are better than me because I've tried drugs and they haven't. A certain housemate who shall remain unnamed was looking at my home pass agreement and laughing because it said that I must refrain from alcohol or drug use, because his never says that, because he's never done drugs.

So here's what I'm thinking but I don't say out loud. I was once like you. I was once one of them goody two-shoe kids who thought I would never try drugs. But then guess what happened? I grew up! It all goes back to the 8th grade, when something happened that I won't mention because it's top secret book information. The schools and the media try to scare kids about drugs. They try to brainwash you into associating the word "drugs" with something horrible and bad. That's why they get mad at my program when I call my medications drugs. Because they try to maintain that association in your mind of drugs with scary images of homeless meth addicts with sunken cheek bones, scabs, and missing teeth. They don't want you to equate the drugs they give you with the drugs on the street, when in actuality some of them aren't that different from each other.

Here's the truth: most people in the world have tried drugs, and most of them didn't get addicted. There's a chance that you might get addicted, and that's the reason that they try to scare you into staying away from drugs. If you're someone who has a family history of addiction, or you know that you have an addictive personality, and that's the reason that you stay away from drugs, then I can respect that. What I don't respect is people who think they're better than me because they continue to buy into the scare tactics that the schools and the media have used to try to get them to stay away from drugs. These people have been brainwashed.

I don't regret trying drugs. I've had experiences on drugs that I value. Sure, my experiences may have been due to chemicals. But guess what, every experience you have is the result of chemicals! Who cares if they naturally occur in the brain or not? I have had realizations on drugs about things I would not have realized otherwise, and they have permanently changed my views on the world. When I have kids, I will be honest and tell them that I've tried drugs.

The truth is, for the most part, trying a drug once or a few times or using it for a short period of time probably isn't going to cause very much damage at all. What is damaging is chronic use. I know some people who simply don't like drugs, my sister is one of them, and there's nothing wrong with that, actually that's a good thing. I used to abuse cough syrup a lot, but then I got tired of feeling stupid like my brain was in a fog and I couldn't think straight. I see a lot of value in being sober. But I also see a lot of value in experimenting with drugs. And that's what I think.

Thank you for listening.

My Life in Treatment: A Brief History (part 2)

So, on with my history of treatment. I was taken to the psych ward by my therapist, and by this time it was February of 2009. When I found out I was being taken to the hospital, I jumped out of the car and tried to run away. I didn’t get very far, as one of the staff and my therapist jumped out of the car and ran me down. This was before I realized how awesome psych wards are.

Yes, psych wards are awesome. You meet the most interesting people there! But that should be the subject of another blog entry.

While I was in the hospital, they switched my meds from an antipsychotic called Abilify to another one called Geodon. I didn’t think this was a big deal at the time. I thought Abilify didn’t do anything, and I didn’t think Geodon did anything either, but my parents and my doctors and everyone else had this belief that if I wasn’t on an antipsychotic all hell would break loose.

I got out of the hospital and that same night, I went to take my meds and there was no Geodon. “That’s okay, it’s not like it did anything anyway!” I said. Then I went to bed, and I started thinking about things and trying to relax. But as time went by I kept getting more and more awake and my thoughts kept getting more and more vivid. And then I realized: I was hypomanic! Wow, something would happen if I didn’t take the meds! Maybe I was bipolar after all!

So I didn’t sleep much, and the next morning I refused my Geodon, because this mania was a new and exciting natural high, it was like the solution to my problem of feeling the need for stimulants all the time. Mania is kind of like being on a stimulant. They took me to stable (where they take people who need some “time off”), I left and started walking down the street, so I was handcuffed and taken by security back to the psych ward.

I refused my meds at the hospital, which was kind of bad because there was a lady there who was talking to herself and stuff and really needed her meds but she wanted to refuse them too. Then I started to realize that mania wasn’t all happy. It was interspersed with random feelings of extreme lowness. While the high feelings lasted longer than the low feelings, the low feelings were pretty annoying.

I stopped refusing my meds and eventually, I was discharged from the hospital. Back to good ole Innercept. My therapist told me I could get transition passes again if I stopped sleeping during the day. And I tried. I really tried. But that Geodon, man, it knocks you the fuck out. I took it twice a day, at night and in the morning. I takes about two hours to hit, and that’s when my eyes would automatically shut. I could try really hard and open them again, but then they would just automatically shut again, all by themselves. Try as I might, I could not keep my eyes open. And when my eyes were closed, I would fall asleep.

I wasn’t the only one who would sleep during the day. Innercept’s solution to this problem: less comfortable chairs. Did I mention that this program is run by geniuses?

They like to grade you at this program, using the stupid 1-2-3 system. Two’s are normal. One’s are bad. Three’s are great. You need a two average to make allowance. They grade you in each quadrant of the four quadrants, which is interesting because one of the quadrants, by definition, is one you can’t be graded in. It’s things other people can’t see, like thoughts, feelings, etc. If other people can see it, it’s in a different fucking quadrant! But them Innercept employees, they’ll slap a one wherever they damn well please. One time I got a one in one quadrant for sleeping during the day, and a one in another quadrant for sleeping during group. I called this redundant one-ing. It was the same nap!

Finally, they stopped giving me Geodon in the morning and gave me a higher dose at night. That’s around the time I started getting manic every single day. By this time I had also been switched from the anticonvulsant/ mood stabilizer Lamictal to the classic bipolar med lithium. At first I thought lithium was great. Then I realized that it was because it wasn’t doing anything and I was just a little manic all the time, but the mania didn’t last. Anyway, then I went on a home visit, drank a lot of caffeine and alcohol at the airport on the plane ride back, got euphorically high, then suicidally low. Back to the hospital. By now it’s June 2009.

These were some great times at the psych ward actually, I met some awesome people. They did some med switcharoos (lithium to Depakote), and after maybe a month I was back in stable at Innercept, then back to the regular part of the program. Week after week I was filling out special requests for transition passes, and I was getting denied (I can’t remember why, too soon maybe). Actually, I think this is when I was facing a little bit of depression and I was apathetic and wasn’t quite taking care of myself, so they were giving me quarters to do things like brush my teeth, do laundry, take showers. I think maybe this was a low point. This is what people always say when they talk about “how far I’ve come.” “Why, we used to have to pay you to take showers!” Anyway.

I got passes finally, got my shit together, took on a hellishly boring volunteer position, started working out like mad, and then about five (yes, FIVE!) months later I was finally in transition. I moved in January 25, 2010. I came down with something. I don’t know what was ailing with me, but whatever it was, it required massive amounts of cough syrup to remedy (this was the highlight of my time in treatment).

Beautiful cough syrup.

More to come...