Now each morning there is a giant collection I must swallow.
Two big ugly brown-orange capsules.
Two funky little white ones.
One light blue.
One light yellow.
And I'm still not taking my vitamins, iron or calcium. Partly because I can't take them at the same time as all the ones mentioned above due to some funky interaction that makes the whole swallow moot, and partly because I just don't want to.
It's not so much that I'm on strike from taking care of myself; I'm not. I sleep, I eat, I shower and do what I have to do during the day. It's just that at night I have to take the funky little white ones again and it all seems like a lot.
I suppose I could make the ones that are actually good for me--and that everyone can buy--part of my lunch.
But I don't want to be one of those old ladies who carries around a giant pill container marked with the days of the week and a.m., lunch, p.m.
But I do want to tell you all that I had the funniest conversation with my dealer, I mean, my psychiatrist yesterday.
After he determined (duh) that I am still depressed, and that even though my mood chart looks just like last months I am actually more depressed (last month I just averaged out the highs and lows of my days, now I only have lows unless something good happens in the day), he asked me about drugs.
"Have you ever experimented with drugs?"
"No." I've never even smoked a cigarette. I think I said, "no" with as much incredulity in my voice as I could muster as I stare at the ground and focus on my I'm-trying-not-to-cry-from-frustration-with-this-ridiculously-long-game of let's-see-if-this works thoughts.
"Diet pills? Dexa-[something]?"
"No." Where is he going with this. Has he SEEN me. I weigh 110. Or so. And yes, I do eat. Now I'm looking at him.
"What affect does caffeine have on you?"
"It wakes me up. And I get addicted to it really quickly. And if I don't have it I get really bad headaches." I started to get the bizarre feeling he was giving me ideas of drugs to abuse because he had already explained that alcohol was actually a depressant and that even if it makes people feel good initially it makes them crash later--which is not good. (duh) I know these things. I've taught these things.
Then he started talking about the fact that they sometimes put people who they haven't been able to pull out of a long depression (keep in mind this is now a year long project of ours and it's only sort of showing progress) they give them other medications. This is when I realize he's essentially talking about uppers. Karen from Will and Grace flashes in my mind. My God. I'll have so many drugs at my disposal. Uppers. Downers? Stabilizers? Huh? Me? The one who holds a huge debate over whether to take Tylenol or Advil or a nap when I have a headache?
I remember when I was given my first prescription for an anti-depressant. I got in my car and I sobbed. I felt I had lost control. What happened to jogging if I felt blue? What happened to calling a friend if I needed to talk? How did I get so sick?
And now I have this mini-pharmacy to sort through each day and the doctor is talking about enlarging it.
I can't even imagine the kind of high he is concerned I could reach with the new drugs he is considering. I don't think I have ever felt that good--though he does make it sound like MOST people never feel that good, that this kind of good he is talking about is actually another kind of sickness unto itself.
But ooo. I could maybe use that kind of hit. (Not that I'm going to go and try some drug or another... Jesus, my body is so pickled as it is. I like being a healthy girl who has never even smoked a cigarette.)
But I am SO CURIOUS about feeling that good.
I think when I walk the dogs today (which offers a certain kind of high all in itself), I will look again at all those posters about crystal death. Those people look really awful. I don't want to go there, not even with the guidance of my (seriously I have one of these?) psychiatrist.
God, this is an exhausting little trip I've been on for the past year and three months.