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.
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