Have I Surrendered?

So....the mood swings of yesterday and today seem to be leveling off. I feel a sense of calm washing over me. Whenever i get stressed, something happens and I just don’t go to that crazy place. It's quite hard to describe, I just shut down.

I am a bit weary of this on and off switch Cymbalta has brought to my life. I already contained the ability to shut down - but the switch was in my hand, it was my choice. This doesn’t feel like a choice. 

So far, I am fairly certain that these drugs develop an instant, and quite strong, hold on your mind. I feel an intense sense of apathy which creates this sense of confinement. Without an interest in my surroundings - I have nothing. Life is what you create, what you mix together and watch play out. 

If by taking this drug, I have cut my choices in half - what good will come of it?

30 to 60 in One Day

The first seven days of Cymbalta felt like a new beginning, these 30mg capsules gave me a clarity I had not experienced, well.....ever. 

Those seven days seem so long ago, these new 60mg capsules have me twisted. I feel scared, jittery and out of sorts. My usually insatiable sex drive seems to have dimmed under the artificial light of duloxetine. 

Last night - I was on the brink of a breakdown - certain my brain was going to explode. My eyes were bulging, my surroundings seemed new and wrong. I felt my true self was slipping away. 

I cannot help but wonder if the pills are causing this change. 

What if my current state is my true current state? 

What if these pills just alleviate the dread which caused my obsessive behavior?
What if I could become a well rounded individual free of so much need? 

What if this is normal?

Insomniac

I feel the disconnect. I see myself, my perceived self, floating away. I do not fear this, I know he can return any time I want him to. I surrender control...to myself in a way. That’s what antidepressants are - A way to surrender control. It’s the sexiest disguise force has ever worn.

I guess I'm submissive - who knew....

the drug needs me to need it - without me it fails to exist. I must be the master. It’s here I begin to wonder about choices.

I choose to take this pill. I choose it every morning. Every afternoon - I regret it.

This cycle never ends. The sick, tired, disconnection turns me on.

No surprise. I thought the pills would help me. I thought they would give me the lift I needed to get to where I wanted to be. I thought it was simple enough.

I have always been addicted to cycles. To the familiar, sexy fucking pain of consistency. When I need it bad - I’m like a cat in heat. I’ll get it any way I can. 

Sure, i will ingest some pills which will force my body into a state it will not readily attain on it’s own. Only for the sexy payback. Life is payola.

The pills allow me to place blame elsewhere. It's the pills - they made me do it.

I have a feeling this is going to take longer that I thought,

30 Milligrams In Seven Days

It’s been one week. I am on the eight day. I feel better. I feel even. I feel fucking crazy. You see, I was never a calm guy, I am not known for being even, I am known for being a bit erratic, a bit too spontaneous. I am beginning to wonder if I was ever truly depressed. Hell, I am beginning to wonder if depression, as it is sold to us, is real at all.

A crazy thought entered my head this morning. I began to wonder if happiness should be a constant. Should we always be even? Should we always make good decisions? If so....What do we need religion for?

Seriously, if happiness is a swallow away then why do we need faith? It seems to me that drug companies are the new church. Think about it. Antidepressant usage is at an all time high and attendance of religious services is at an all time low. Coincidence? No.

I think back to 1994, when I was introduced to a cocktail of drugs which will remain nameless (for now) - I remember feeling strange, I can almost re-experience the intense feeling of wellness. So fucking artificial. So in line with the big picture of big brother. Drug companies have been patient....and their time has come.

So here I am, on Cymbalta, a land where depression doesn’t have to hurt. I am in the world where faith has died. We no longer look to a “God”, we look to pills, we look to celebrity gossip....we are living in a world where we do not matter, we have surrendered ourselves to a higher power. Emphasis on the high.

So why are we turning to drugs? Why have I turned to drugs? I don’t know, but I hope this journal of my experience helps me get closer to an answer.