When you turn 21, some people enjoy dancing and drinking. Others enjoy the act of stressing out constantly over every little thing they've done in their life. When I turned 19, I became a man of wonder. When I got taken off my Adderall, I became a woman of feeling. When I became one with the art of Lamictal, I enjoyed the act of agony.
So where does that take us now? Do we enjoy the same things? We do, not anymore. I used to enjoy things like caterwauling and pretentious folk tunes, but not the rhythm and blues of arrogant militant prescription pill antics. Why Adderall? Your concentration is bad. It's not that bad, but it could be a little better. No, it's habit forming. But that won't happen, because it never happens.
Except to Rachel. And when Rachel takes the drug of choice that ends up being one of her best buds, they decide it was all her fault. They don't blame themselves for putting her on the drug of choice, they blame Rachel for liking the drug of choice. So, they get mad at Rachel. Damn you, brethren! If only you could take it for medicinal purposes and not recreational purposes! We like the pretentious attitude towards fellow man you have acquired, it is helpful for those needing help with their funny feeling center of the brain, like with your delusional experiences.
Then, something terrific happened. They agreed! Rachel needs drugs! Everyone agreed! It was fun! And then, something happened. Rachel did not agree anymore, and was taken off the medication for delusional episodes.
Why, look. She is a pretentious fuck. She enjoys the banter of mental illness, but not the symptoms! Why? Why can't she understand that she is a good person too? I understand little of this pretentious attitude towards medication, but please, endure the hardship of cocaine brain!
I'll tell you about the hardship of cocaine brain. It involves constant embarrassment, humiliation, water world esque style. It is a horrific uphill battle as each incident one ups the other with horrendous humiliation. Things you wrote appear trite, not trite, embarrassing. Embarrassingly trite. People speak behind your back about your angsty ways and blame it on the caffeine consumption, when really, it is the Adderall, the drug they adore too, because it made you an excellent student.
Showing posts with label prescription drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prescription drugs. Show all posts
Monday, February 2, 2015
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Quit! You did what? BOUT TIME!!!
How I miss the dopamine. It is a wonderful chemical, which leads to concentration, fun, and the cherished ability to do goal-oriented stuff.
My parents don't understand the dopamine. They say, Rachel, you drink too much caffeine! You are going to overload and kill us all! Caffeine overconsumption! Caffeine overconsumption!
They say, no energy drinks. They kill your brain, make you MANIC! And you are already manic Rachel, look at all those funny hand motions you are making! Manic all the way!
I say, fuck off, Beev! Fuck off, Meeke! You know what I did earlier this year? Do you remember? I quit taking Adderall! And you know what Adderall does? It is far worse in terms of stimulants than energy drinks, BY FAR!!! Don't give me that crappy explanation, "oh, we don't know what all is in them!"
Well, we know what is in Adderall, and it is all bad. There is nothing worse in Rockstar than there is in Adderall. Adderall takes the bad drug cake. So I think a Rockstar a day is preferable to an Adderall a day. The other thing is, I used to do both! At the same time! And sometimes drink and smoke weed. But I don't do these things anymore. So, where are we going with this argument? Do you have some sort of point? Are you trying to say I am doing poorly in the drug department? I QUIT FUCKING ADDERALL!!! DOES THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?! I WAS A DRUG ADDICT!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!!!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!!!!!!!
WORSE THAN YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!
And of my own accord, with some help from the dreaded, horrific, imaginary spirit guides, I quit it!!
"She admits it! They are imaginary! There you go Rachel, you know your delusions aren't true!! You now it!!!"
They do not get it. I am a recovering drug addict to Adderall. They don't know about my past. They don't understand my internal dialogue about the drug, my addiction, my pheening (sp?) for the drugs, how awful, awful, awful it was when I was off it, all the things I would have done to get it... Yeah, I never bought it illegally, though. I guess I'm not a REAL drug addict.
So anyway, they do not understand that it is a major, major, MAJOR life change!! And to take it for granted. YES!!! THEY TAKE IT FOR GRANTED!! 'Bout time, Rach!!!
SHUT THE FUCK UP!! SOME CONGRATULATION IS IN ORDER!!
I don't need you to tell me congratulations, but this is something you need to do something nice in the head toward me for. That is it. That is all.
And my mother, she always misunderstands the problem. She always thinks, less stimulants, more depressants, like invega, lithium, bipolar meds, baby. Bipolar meds are the key to Rachel's success.
SHUT THE FUCK UP BEEV!!! She throws hissy fits about my caffeine consumption, my nicotine gum use. Please, these help, way more than you understand.
The problem isn't too much dopamine, the problem is not enough dopamine! I am severely, severely, SEVERELY deficient in dopamine! If only she knew the struggle I face on a daily basis, trying not to be embarrassed over nothing, nada, noodle head. Nothing at all. Always embarrassed, embarrassed, embarrassed,
SCREEEEECH!!!!!!
This is the sound of being constantly embarrassed by lack of dopamine.
Another thing about her. She is a weird girl in the room of death. Not for me, not my dad, herself. She believes she is not a good mom, but pretends that she will be one if she does things to control her only hope in life, which is me turning out like a good girl. Not independent, dependent on government handouts. Which is why I will never go back to school.
My dad does not agree with my mother's tactics, but whatever she says is law. He thinks, my mom said, no ID. She does not get her ID. My mom says, she drank a drink of cola and that is bad. He says, bad Rachel, no cola. That is how it works.
My parents don't understand the dopamine. They say, Rachel, you drink too much caffeine! You are going to overload and kill us all! Caffeine overconsumption! Caffeine overconsumption!
They say, no energy drinks. They kill your brain, make you MANIC! And you are already manic Rachel, look at all those funny hand motions you are making! Manic all the way!
I say, fuck off, Beev! Fuck off, Meeke! You know what I did earlier this year? Do you remember? I quit taking Adderall! And you know what Adderall does? It is far worse in terms of stimulants than energy drinks, BY FAR!!! Don't give me that crappy explanation, "oh, we don't know what all is in them!"
Well, we know what is in Adderall, and it is all bad. There is nothing worse in Rockstar than there is in Adderall. Adderall takes the bad drug cake. So I think a Rockstar a day is preferable to an Adderall a day. The other thing is, I used to do both! At the same time! And sometimes drink and smoke weed. But I don't do these things anymore. So, where are we going with this argument? Do you have some sort of point? Are you trying to say I am doing poorly in the drug department? I QUIT FUCKING ADDERALL!!! DOES THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU?! I WAS A DRUG ADDICT!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!!!!
A DRUG ADDICT!!!!!!!!!
WORSE THAN YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!!!!
And of my own accord, with some help from the dreaded, horrific, imaginary spirit guides, I quit it!!
"She admits it! They are imaginary! There you go Rachel, you know your delusions aren't true!! You now it!!!"
They do not get it. I am a recovering drug addict to Adderall. They don't know about my past. They don't understand my internal dialogue about the drug, my addiction, my pheening (sp?) for the drugs, how awful, awful, awful it was when I was off it, all the things I would have done to get it... Yeah, I never bought it illegally, though. I guess I'm not a REAL drug addict.
So anyway, they do not understand that it is a major, major, MAJOR life change!! And to take it for granted. YES!!! THEY TAKE IT FOR GRANTED!! 'Bout time, Rach!!!
SHUT THE FUCK UP!! SOME CONGRATULATION IS IN ORDER!!
I don't need you to tell me congratulations, but this is something you need to do something nice in the head toward me for. That is it. That is all.
And my mother, she always misunderstands the problem. She always thinks, less stimulants, more depressants, like invega, lithium, bipolar meds, baby. Bipolar meds are the key to Rachel's success.
SHUT THE FUCK UP BEEV!!! She throws hissy fits about my caffeine consumption, my nicotine gum use. Please, these help, way more than you understand.
The problem isn't too much dopamine, the problem is not enough dopamine! I am severely, severely, SEVERELY deficient in dopamine! If only she knew the struggle I face on a daily basis, trying not to be embarrassed over nothing, nada, noodle head. Nothing at all. Always embarrassed, embarrassed, embarrassed,
SCREEEEECH!!!!!!
This is the sound of being constantly embarrassed by lack of dopamine.
Another thing about her. She is a weird girl in the room of death. Not for me, not my dad, herself. She believes she is not a good mom, but pretends that she will be one if she does things to control her only hope in life, which is me turning out like a good girl. Not independent, dependent on government handouts. Which is why I will never go back to school.
My dad does not agree with my mother's tactics, but whatever she says is law. He thinks, my mom said, no ID. She does not get her ID. My mom says, she drank a drink of cola and that is bad. He says, bad Rachel, no cola. That is how it works.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Innercept: A Journey Back to the Womb
The thing that makes a lot of sense about Innercept is their policy on helping young adults blossom into fully functioning human beings.
So what they do is, they keep them in a house in the middle of nowhere. Lock up all the food, the medication, everything they need. They have to request everything from staff members.
Staff drives them around all day, to places like the volunteer center.
And then, magically, they learn responsibility for themselves. Instead of Innercept making the decisions they used to make for them, they are suddenly making the same decisions.
Like, don't drink that energy drink. Two cups of coffee before eleven, none after. No cigarettes. T-shirts that go right up the neckline. Don't stay out past seven. And the like.
So, as a result, I make these same decisions that Innercept always made for me. Very modest clothing. They always told me at intercept, guys respect you more if you wear modest clothing. No cleavage. No blouses that look good. I once had a shirt sent home, not because it broke the dress code. Because it looked "a little too good on me."
No energy drinks. No nicotine. No caffeine past eleven. This is how my life is now.
How am I after Innercept? Am I self-sufficient? No, now I am in the Beev and F. Meek program. Regular room searches. All supplements are confiscated. Forced druggings. Lectures on caffeine. Lectures on going out alone. Lectures on staying up too late. Lots and lots and lots of lectures.
But anyway. Through Innercept doing everything for me, it taught me responsibility. For a long period of time, they made all the right decisions for me. So now, I have given up trying to be my own person, and doing things that make me feel good. Smaller portions. Fruit between meals. Regular harsh antipsychotics. Two cups of coffee. Menial service labor positions.
And as a result, I am self-sufficient, making money by myself, enough to get by, living on my own, no relapses or issues at all since Innercept... no alcohol, drugs, marijuana, harsh solvents, anything. I am perfectly happy, morbidly obese maybe, but perfectly happy.
That's what happens when you leave Innercept. I just worry about the dark and dreary nature of life now. A dark, dreary nature life never had before the antipsychotics. But I like to think I am happy. Happy as a robot.
Or is that how it happened?
No. I don't give a shit what a fucking fucked up program tells me to do. With anyone's effort to control me, there is a backlash. I say, fuck you, mother and father. Fuck you, psychiatrists. Medical professionals. I don't trust you anymore, at all. I will trust anyone who comes along besides you who appears to give a damn about me. You don't give a damn about me. You have your own motivations for keeping me doped up and medicated. My mom just wants one daughter who turned out well. Just one. She has two. Hopefully, if she does all she does to control the younger one, the one there is hope for, with an iron grip, making all the decision for her.... she will eventually turn out okay.
This is how it goes.
So I don't give a flying fuck anymore. I don't give a fuck about your sky high stress levels. "Oh, Rachel. When you go out at night, the two of us worry oh so much! Out past twelve? It's bed time! Rachel, are you dead in a ditch? Rachel, are you drunk off your ass? Rachel, are you shooting up heroine? RACHEL!!! Home by 8? That's late! Rachel! You are worrying your mom and dad! Don't live your life! We want you here at home!"
Back the fuck off. If it were up to you, my only social life would be church and the women with disabilities art work shop. I don't give a fuck that you worry, worry, worry. I am not going to live my entire life, bogged down by the fact that if I do certain healthy, normal things, my parents will worry. Back the fuck off and grow up.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Innercept. Innercept cages you in, treats you like a baby, so eventually, you end up acting like a baby. You become desperate for each other approval. Dependent on others, and their tactics backfire. It breeds criminal misconduct. And then, everyone leaves, and is sent off to prison.
This is how it goes.
So what they do is, they keep them in a house in the middle of nowhere. Lock up all the food, the medication, everything they need. They have to request everything from staff members.
Staff drives them around all day, to places like the volunteer center.
And then, magically, they learn responsibility for themselves. Instead of Innercept making the decisions they used to make for them, they are suddenly making the same decisions.
Like, don't drink that energy drink. Two cups of coffee before eleven, none after. No cigarettes. T-shirts that go right up the neckline. Don't stay out past seven. And the like.
So, as a result, I make these same decisions that Innercept always made for me. Very modest clothing. They always told me at intercept, guys respect you more if you wear modest clothing. No cleavage. No blouses that look good. I once had a shirt sent home, not because it broke the dress code. Because it looked "a little too good on me."
No energy drinks. No nicotine. No caffeine past eleven. This is how my life is now.
How am I after Innercept? Am I self-sufficient? No, now I am in the Beev and F. Meek program. Regular room searches. All supplements are confiscated. Forced druggings. Lectures on caffeine. Lectures on going out alone. Lectures on staying up too late. Lots and lots and lots of lectures.
But anyway. Through Innercept doing everything for me, it taught me responsibility. For a long period of time, they made all the right decisions for me. So now, I have given up trying to be my own person, and doing things that make me feel good. Smaller portions. Fruit between meals. Regular harsh antipsychotics. Two cups of coffee. Menial service labor positions.
And as a result, I am self-sufficient, making money by myself, enough to get by, living on my own, no relapses or issues at all since Innercept... no alcohol, drugs, marijuana, harsh solvents, anything. I am perfectly happy, morbidly obese maybe, but perfectly happy.
That's what happens when you leave Innercept. I just worry about the dark and dreary nature of life now. A dark, dreary nature life never had before the antipsychotics. But I like to think I am happy. Happy as a robot.
Or is that how it happened?
No. I don't give a shit what a fucking fucked up program tells me to do. With anyone's effort to control me, there is a backlash. I say, fuck you, mother and father. Fuck you, psychiatrists. Medical professionals. I don't trust you anymore, at all. I will trust anyone who comes along besides you who appears to give a damn about me. You don't give a damn about me. You have your own motivations for keeping me doped up and medicated. My mom just wants one daughter who turned out well. Just one. She has two. Hopefully, if she does all she does to control the younger one, the one there is hope for, with an iron grip, making all the decision for her.... she will eventually turn out okay.
This is how it goes.
So I don't give a flying fuck anymore. I don't give a fuck about your sky high stress levels. "Oh, Rachel. When you go out at night, the two of us worry oh so much! Out past twelve? It's bed time! Rachel, are you dead in a ditch? Rachel, are you drunk off your ass? Rachel, are you shooting up heroine? RACHEL!!! Home by 8? That's late! Rachel! You are worrying your mom and dad! Don't live your life! We want you here at home!"
Back the fuck off. If it were up to you, my only social life would be church and the women with disabilities art work shop. I don't give a fuck that you worry, worry, worry. I am not going to live my entire life, bogged down by the fact that if I do certain healthy, normal things, my parents will worry. Back the fuck off and grow up.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Innercept. Innercept cages you in, treats you like a baby, so eventually, you end up acting like a baby. You become desperate for each other approval. Dependent on others, and their tactics backfire. It breeds criminal misconduct. And then, everyone leaves, and is sent off to prison.
This is how it goes.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Satan and Adderall: Partners in Business
So, first I'd like to say that Satan is alive and well in society in many ways. Whether you take that as figurative, literal, or some funny combination of the two.
Satan called out to me the day I started doing Adderall. He said to me, Rachel, you are happy now. Ridiculously, ludacrously happy. No more pain. No more unpleasant feelings. I know this is a drug. I know they warned you not to do drugs. I know you know there is really no distinction between prescription drugs and street drugs. Your parents don't know that. But Rachel, everything is okay. All you have to do is take this pill and you will be happy for the rest of your life.
So at first, it was grand. I was happy. I became emaciated. I didn't have to worry about eating too much. Happy, happy, happy. Life couldn't be better.
Well, that was at first. Life slowly started to sink in. There were letdowns. Coming off it. My mom would be horrified if she knew how intense the highs and lows of this drug are.
But it took several years before Satan really started to screw me over. First came the dark spots. The humiliation. Every little thing I had ever done was horribly, horribly humiliating. So let's freak out already. Every moment, every day. Freak out about it. I got relief when I took the Adderall.
After awhile, the high doesn't last very long. Maybe an hour out of every day. And it's not a high anymore. Just normal, everyday good funny weird happy feelings. After that, I felt empty and depressed. Life lacked zest.
Then came the pill thievery. The trying to get more, and more, and more. I didn't care where I got it. I just wanted it. Because, I thought, it was that good. I couldn't enjoy life without it.
So, it would have continued to get worse, and worse, and worse. Oh, and I forgot the paranoia too. There was also paranoia.
But things are okay now. Angels rescued me. My spirit guides. WWWOWOOWOWOW!!! And here is where my mom says, SHE IS DELUDED!!!K!!KJO!JO@!! She's not psychic! She's talking to herself! Talking to herself!
WEIREHNIREJIRJEIRJEI!!!
I don't know if people understand that I was a drug addict. I am a recovered drug addict, bitch. Not recovering. Recovered. I don't want that shit anymore. Sure, dopamine production is still not at its peak. But I wouldn't go back to that shit ever. EVAR!!!!!
So there we go. That's it. Satan comes and tells you, forget what you know about drugs. Drugs are good. Feel this. It's good. Everything is a happy gumdrop lollipop fairytale. Just take this pill every day.
And then he fucks you over, slowly but surely.
Don't fall for it. Don't think that just because a doctor prescribed it, it's okay. Avoid that shit. And for the drug addicts. Energy rebalancing, baby. Energy rebalancing.
Satan called out to me the day I started doing Adderall. He said to me, Rachel, you are happy now. Ridiculously, ludacrously happy. No more pain. No more unpleasant feelings. I know this is a drug. I know they warned you not to do drugs. I know you know there is really no distinction between prescription drugs and street drugs. Your parents don't know that. But Rachel, everything is okay. All you have to do is take this pill and you will be happy for the rest of your life.
So at first, it was grand. I was happy. I became emaciated. I didn't have to worry about eating too much. Happy, happy, happy. Life couldn't be better.
Well, that was at first. Life slowly started to sink in. There were letdowns. Coming off it. My mom would be horrified if she knew how intense the highs and lows of this drug are.
But it took several years before Satan really started to screw me over. First came the dark spots. The humiliation. Every little thing I had ever done was horribly, horribly humiliating. So let's freak out already. Every moment, every day. Freak out about it. I got relief when I took the Adderall.
After awhile, the high doesn't last very long. Maybe an hour out of every day. And it's not a high anymore. Just normal, everyday good funny weird happy feelings. After that, I felt empty and depressed. Life lacked zest.
Then came the pill thievery. The trying to get more, and more, and more. I didn't care where I got it. I just wanted it. Because, I thought, it was that good. I couldn't enjoy life without it.
So, it would have continued to get worse, and worse, and worse. Oh, and I forgot the paranoia too. There was also paranoia.
But things are okay now. Angels rescued me. My spirit guides. WWWOWOOWOWOW!!! And here is where my mom says, SHE IS DELUDED!!!K!!KJO!JO@!! She's not psychic! She's talking to herself! Talking to herself!
WEIREHNIREJIRJEIRJEI!!!
I don't know if people understand that I was a drug addict. I am a recovered drug addict, bitch. Not recovering. Recovered. I don't want that shit anymore. Sure, dopamine production is still not at its peak. But I wouldn't go back to that shit ever. EVAR!!!!!
So there we go. That's it. Satan comes and tells you, forget what you know about drugs. Drugs are good. Feel this. It's good. Everything is a happy gumdrop lollipop fairytale. Just take this pill every day.
And then he fucks you over, slowly but surely.
Don't fall for it. Don't think that just because a doctor prescribed it, it's okay. Avoid that shit. And for the drug addicts. Energy rebalancing, baby. Energy rebalancing.
Monday, August 11, 2014
More pills, More Problems
So, I asked my mom what it was she thought that Innercept had done for me.
Well, that's an easy one, darling. They educated you on your condition!
Ha! Ha! HA!! HAHA!! What a laugh. No, they didn't Beev. I was never educated on any conditions at Innercept. Not my bipolar disorder, my schizophrenia, my body dysmorphic disorder, my OCD, my tourrettes, my anorexia, my narcolepsy. None of those. No education! No education! NO EDUCATION WHATSOEVER!.
I'll tell you what I was educated on. Collusion. The problems with beating things up to relieve aggression. How to smuggle tea and crumpets in to stable. Boring, worthless things I zoned out. Videos on quantum physics. Stupid videos. The Miracle Worker. Never a dull moment at Innercept, that's not for sure. But no mental illness education.
But that's all right. That's okay. You just keep thinking that, Beev. If it makes you happy, you keep thinking it. Because I know it doesn't mean a thing to you that I say they didn't teach me shit. What would I know after all? I'm the one with bipolar disorder! I can't tell left from right, up from down, or manic from suicidal depression. We know that information's in there, Rachel. That wisdom that Innercept bestowed upon you about your conditions! Your condition!
Be healthy! Have Fun! BAAAHHH!!!!! (HEAD EXPLODES). Whoops, inside joke.
So it makes my parents feel proud of themselves to think that Innercept helped me understand my condition, force-fed me urine samples, and now I can relax and be at ease with whatever shitty mind-altering substance anyone throws at me, knowing that it will help calm my "mental state." I'm sick of this bullshit.
No, no no no NO!! There was no education. I don't know a damn thing more about bipolar disorder than I knew at the beginning. Ups, downs, whatever. I don't need to know. I don't want to know.
I will tell me what Innercept did teach me. Interpersonal relationship skills. That's it. That's it. There groups don't mean shit. Therapy doesn't mean shit. I don't fucking know how therapy is supposed to work. Sitting there, talking to my therapist about the weather, a meaningless dream I had. Every. Single. Fucking. Session. What was I supposed to talk about? Issues that actually matter to me?
I'm not as fucked up as you think I am. I have nothing to say. If I said the things that mattered out loud, it makes the pain worse. Swiss cheese Adderall holes in my mind. Not my brain, my mind. Pockets where there are no happy neurotransmitters. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. That's what I keep telling myself. Don't think about that embarrassing moment that no one thought was even a big deal, small deal, or any sort of deal, and no one even remembers. Don't think about it and it will go away.
But they don't go away until I gave up adderall. So many problems I didn't have before being on the prescription medication.
All in all, Innercept is a freak show of idiots parading as doctors and power-hungry war mongerers parading as staff members. It is fun, in a way. I had a blast, in a way, when I wasn't being fucked up the ass. I am better off now than I was before Innercept. Sure, maybe I could have had an education instead of Innercept and be making a living. But fuck school, I can channel, I'm too cool to go back.
So that's it. That's the gist of it. The kids are pissed but the parents love it. And that's all I got to say.
Well, that's an easy one, darling. They educated you on your condition!
Ha! Ha! HA!! HAHA!! What a laugh. No, they didn't Beev. I was never educated on any conditions at Innercept. Not my bipolar disorder, my schizophrenia, my body dysmorphic disorder, my OCD, my tourrettes, my anorexia, my narcolepsy. None of those. No education! No education! NO EDUCATION WHATSOEVER!.
I'll tell you what I was educated on. Collusion. The problems with beating things up to relieve aggression. How to smuggle tea and crumpets in to stable. Boring, worthless things I zoned out. Videos on quantum physics. Stupid videos. The Miracle Worker. Never a dull moment at Innercept, that's not for sure. But no mental illness education.
But that's all right. That's okay. You just keep thinking that, Beev. If it makes you happy, you keep thinking it. Because I know it doesn't mean a thing to you that I say they didn't teach me shit. What would I know after all? I'm the one with bipolar disorder! I can't tell left from right, up from down, or manic from suicidal depression. We know that information's in there, Rachel. That wisdom that Innercept bestowed upon you about your conditions! Your condition!
Be healthy! Have Fun! BAAAHHH!!!!! (HEAD EXPLODES). Whoops, inside joke.
So it makes my parents feel proud of themselves to think that Innercept helped me understand my condition, force-fed me urine samples, and now I can relax and be at ease with whatever shitty mind-altering substance anyone throws at me, knowing that it will help calm my "mental state." I'm sick of this bullshit.
No, no no no NO!! There was no education. I don't know a damn thing more about bipolar disorder than I knew at the beginning. Ups, downs, whatever. I don't need to know. I don't want to know.
I will tell me what Innercept did teach me. Interpersonal relationship skills. That's it. That's it. There groups don't mean shit. Therapy doesn't mean shit. I don't fucking know how therapy is supposed to work. Sitting there, talking to my therapist about the weather, a meaningless dream I had. Every. Single. Fucking. Session. What was I supposed to talk about? Issues that actually matter to me?
I'm not as fucked up as you think I am. I have nothing to say. If I said the things that mattered out loud, it makes the pain worse. Swiss cheese Adderall holes in my mind. Not my brain, my mind. Pockets where there are no happy neurotransmitters. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. That's what I keep telling myself. Don't think about that embarrassing moment that no one thought was even a big deal, small deal, or any sort of deal, and no one even remembers. Don't think about it and it will go away.
But they don't go away until I gave up adderall. So many problems I didn't have before being on the prescription medication.
All in all, Innercept is a freak show of idiots parading as doctors and power-hungry war mongerers parading as staff members. It is fun, in a way. I had a blast, in a way, when I wasn't being fucked up the ass. I am better off now than I was before Innercept. Sure, maybe I could have had an education instead of Innercept and be making a living. But fuck school, I can channel, I'm too cool to go back.
So that's it. That's the gist of it. The kids are pissed but the parents love it. And that's all I got to say.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
When the High Fizzles Out
So, I've been taking Adderall every day. However, it's not as fun as it used to be.
It used to make me high. And so, for awhile after I took it, I would sit around, feeling good about myself, and about everything in my life, and everything that's happened so far in my life. Because that's what Adderall does. It makes you feel good about absolutely everything.
For years, and years and years, I took it, and felt this way. Now, I take it, but I hardly feel any different at all.
How does this make me feel?
Well, when I first realized it didn't have that effect anymore, I was like, "hey, cool! Now I can just work! Without that distraction of that feeling, the feeling that just makes me sit around and feel good about everything!"
This is what I said at first. I'm not saying it now. Honestly, I kind of miss it. I miss not having to do anything, to have anything good at all going on in my life, for me to feel good. I miss just feeling good, in the moment. Happy in the now. Because when I was on Adderall, I wasn't waiting for some time in the future, whenever that was, when I would supposedly be happy. I wasn't waiting for anything. I was feeling good in the now. I was having fun in the now. I was happy in the now. The closest I came to being happy.
So how do I feel now, now that I don't get that feeling anymore, hardly at all? I miss it. See, the reason I don't get it anymore is because of the neurofeedback. It makes me regret ever getting neurofeedback.
But is it such a bad thing, that I don't feel this way anymore? I begin to recognize why people hate Adderall. It makes you feel happy, for no reason. You feel good about things. You are more likely to express out loud all the thoughts that go through your head that make you feel good. You express them out loud, and other people don't want to hear it, they realize that this stuff you feel good about, isn't good at all. You are just doped up.
Sure it feels good, feeling good about everything. But it isn't normal. It doesn't allow for normal growth of character. You don't see things realistically. You see everything through your rose-colored Adderall glasses.
It makes me look back, and wonder. Every single day I attended high school, I was really high off this shit. What if I hadn't had it? Maybe, I wouldn't have been so comfortable, inside my own head. Maybe I would have reached out, looking for happiness, instead of having it already by myself inside my own head. Maybe I would have been more social, joined a club, did something.
On the contrary though, I did do something. I programmed. At home, on my computer. This is good. This was something I did that I was proud of. Would I have done it without Adderall? Probably not. I probably wouldn't have had the patience.
So it's hard to say. I don't really know. Would I have been better off without Adderall? Maybe, or I may have just turned out emo. Thank God I didn't turn out emo! I would have been like, all suicidal in shit. Is that better than fakely happy? No, I don't think so. I'd prefer fakely happy.
So anyway, that's the past. There is no telling what would be better. Now, we are living in the here and now. The drugs, while they still do something, so I will continue to take them, don't make me feel good about myself any more. So what do I do? How do I feel good about myself, without the drugs? Well, I will just have to turn to my other favorite drug... productivity. And do something with my creative endeavors, and make something I can be proud of, that other people will like and appreciate. I need to make progress on these things every day.
Except, now I am limited by the God damn sprite kit and it's lack of functionality. God fucking damn.
It used to make me high. And so, for awhile after I took it, I would sit around, feeling good about myself, and about everything in my life, and everything that's happened so far in my life. Because that's what Adderall does. It makes you feel good about absolutely everything.
For years, and years and years, I took it, and felt this way. Now, I take it, but I hardly feel any different at all.
How does this make me feel?
Well, when I first realized it didn't have that effect anymore, I was like, "hey, cool! Now I can just work! Without that distraction of that feeling, the feeling that just makes me sit around and feel good about everything!"
This is what I said at first. I'm not saying it now. Honestly, I kind of miss it. I miss not having to do anything, to have anything good at all going on in my life, for me to feel good. I miss just feeling good, in the moment. Happy in the now. Because when I was on Adderall, I wasn't waiting for some time in the future, whenever that was, when I would supposedly be happy. I wasn't waiting for anything. I was feeling good in the now. I was having fun in the now. I was happy in the now. The closest I came to being happy.
So how do I feel now, now that I don't get that feeling anymore, hardly at all? I miss it. See, the reason I don't get it anymore is because of the neurofeedback. It makes me regret ever getting neurofeedback.
But is it such a bad thing, that I don't feel this way anymore? I begin to recognize why people hate Adderall. It makes you feel happy, for no reason. You feel good about things. You are more likely to express out loud all the thoughts that go through your head that make you feel good. You express them out loud, and other people don't want to hear it, they realize that this stuff you feel good about, isn't good at all. You are just doped up.
Sure it feels good, feeling good about everything. But it isn't normal. It doesn't allow for normal growth of character. You don't see things realistically. You see everything through your rose-colored Adderall glasses.
It makes me look back, and wonder. Every single day I attended high school, I was really high off this shit. What if I hadn't had it? Maybe, I wouldn't have been so comfortable, inside my own head. Maybe I would have reached out, looking for happiness, instead of having it already by myself inside my own head. Maybe I would have been more social, joined a club, did something.
On the contrary though, I did do something. I programmed. At home, on my computer. This is good. This was something I did that I was proud of. Would I have done it without Adderall? Probably not. I probably wouldn't have had the patience.
So it's hard to say. I don't really know. Would I have been better off without Adderall? Maybe, or I may have just turned out emo. Thank God I didn't turn out emo! I would have been like, all suicidal in shit. Is that better than fakely happy? No, I don't think so. I'd prefer fakely happy.
So anyway, that's the past. There is no telling what would be better. Now, we are living in the here and now. The drugs, while they still do something, so I will continue to take them, don't make me feel good about myself any more. So what do I do? How do I feel good about myself, without the drugs? Well, I will just have to turn to my other favorite drug... productivity. And do something with my creative endeavors, and make something I can be proud of, that other people will like and appreciate. I need to make progress on these things every day.
Except, now I am limited by the God damn sprite kit and it's lack of functionality. God fucking damn.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Kicking the Benzos
So I have decided to kick my benzodiazopine habit. See, I take Klonopin. I used to take 1 mg at night. So I told my doctor I wanted to quit, following the success of me kicking my nicotine gum addiction, so now the doctor has me down to a half a milligram.
Klonopin was something I would take not because I particularly liked it but because it altered my conscious state. I would take it for anxiety, which meant during one of my freakouts about my many issues. I am obsessive and insecure and get overly embarrassed about every single thing. Some of these things are actually embarrassing and some aren't really but I obsess anyway, because I get in these moods where I am just so god damn uncomfortable. And if I think you are judging me based on one of these things that I obsess over, you are going down on my enemies list.
Damn I hate withdrawal symptoms. Plus I realized the other day that adderall was the reason I get so god damned angry sometimes. My sister called me the other day to vent about the things she was angry about. She doesn't do drugs. It made me wonder what her excuse was.
So anyway, I would take this drugs when I was anxious, but by the time they took effect I had usually calmed down. Obviously, because the drugs make you calm. But you know I mean before they take effect.
Then I started taking Klonopin every single day. And it started to feel kind of nice. And then before you know it, I was a benzo addict.
But I thought this was going to be easy, just a minor adjustment to not getting that calm feeling every single night. But now I can't sleep. Or sometimes I sleep better.
I wake up all thoughty and thinking all strangely and funnily about things. I roll around and roll onto the floor with my pillow and lie on the floor. I wander around my apartment. Last night I realized that the common thread between the two nights I couldn't sleep on klonopin withdrawal was that I hadn't drank a lot of caffeine in the afternoon. So I had a few sips of coffee last night. I got tired. Then awake. I had several gulps of coffee. I became even more awake.
I feel all funny sometimes. Sometimes I feel a spiritual vibration.
But that might be the spirits.
[Abrupt Ending]
Klonopin was something I would take not because I particularly liked it but because it altered my conscious state. I would take it for anxiety, which meant during one of my freakouts about my many issues. I am obsessive and insecure and get overly embarrassed about every single thing. Some of these things are actually embarrassing and some aren't really but I obsess anyway, because I get in these moods where I am just so god damn uncomfortable. And if I think you are judging me based on one of these things that I obsess over, you are going down on my enemies list.
Damn I hate withdrawal symptoms. Plus I realized the other day that adderall was the reason I get so god damned angry sometimes. My sister called me the other day to vent about the things she was angry about. She doesn't do drugs. It made me wonder what her excuse was.
So anyway, I would take this drugs when I was anxious, but by the time they took effect I had usually calmed down. Obviously, because the drugs make you calm. But you know I mean before they take effect.
Then I started taking Klonopin every single day. And it started to feel kind of nice. And then before you know it, I was a benzo addict.
But I thought this was going to be easy, just a minor adjustment to not getting that calm feeling every single night. But now I can't sleep. Or sometimes I sleep better.
I wake up all thoughty and thinking all strangely and funnily about things. I roll around and roll onto the floor with my pillow and lie on the floor. I wander around my apartment. Last night I realized that the common thread between the two nights I couldn't sleep on klonopin withdrawal was that I hadn't drank a lot of caffeine in the afternoon. So I had a few sips of coffee last night. I got tired. Then awake. I had several gulps of coffee. I became even more awake.
I feel all funny sometimes. Sometimes I feel a spiritual vibration.
But that might be the spirits.
[Abrupt Ending]
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