If you read the #Diagnostic and #Statistical Manual of #Mental Disorders, which is the psychiatric bible for those in the helping professions, you see a lot of medications. Google those medications and you'll pull up some fascinating side effects: impotence, headaches, nausea, #fatigue. The list goes on and on. Ad #nauseum.
I've had a few side effects, which often border on the comical. On one antidepressant I had extremely vivid dreams. They involved a lot of physical movement, and several times I fell off the bed onto our tiled floor. Ouch! I have been really lucky not to have hit my head. I wouldn't want to complicate my chronic depression with a TBI. My husband joked that I should wear one of those bicycle helmets---at least I think he was joking--but with a change in antidepressants, the exciting, #aerobic-stimulating dreams vanished. I wouldn't have minded nearly as much if they were fun dreams like necking with Pierce Brosnan or sipping Merlot with Jerry Seinfeld (now that would have been a really funny scenario and I might have picked up a few jokes)
Another negative side effect I've had is a cottony mouth. If I get nervous, this symptom becomes #exaggerated and I have great difficulty talking or even opening my mouth. It really gets bad if I'm nervous, and I'm nervous a lot of the time. The shrink has advised chewing gum as an antidote, but 24/7? That's a bit too much of making like a cow. Another side effect is orgasm. I can't remember the last time I could have one--either by traditional #sex or #masturbation. I know this should go under the heading of "Bite the Bullet if you want to Live", but it's a quality of life issue, and it's a loss that I don't see myself recovering from. Let's all bow our heads and say a prayer for your dysfunctional leader!
What I'd like to see one day are #psychotropic drugs that have side effects you'd kill for. For instance, wouldn't it be nice to look on WebMD and find out that the latest #drug your shrink prescribed has a good chance of increasing your self #esteem? Or maybe take two #capsules of this #antipsychotic called Haldollar and you'll never have to shave your legs again. Your mood might not just chase the grey thoughts away, but might also double as a source of energy. Suddenly you'd be super-neurotic--able to clean eight rooms in a single morning and still have the #motivation to shop until you drop at the corner Costco or Sam's Club.
In my imagined world of mind-enhancing drugs these pink and purple pills would really earn their high prices by keeping down your weight, whisking away facial wrinkles and slowing the aging process. At the same time, they would pump up your brain power by #manufacturing hundreds of thousands of neurons while you sleep so in your waking hours your #creativity would shine. Maybe you'd #invent the self-driving passenger plane or the cure for the common cold. You could be the first person to walk on Mars or create a new beverage that is non-alcoholic but gives you the same "lift."
A girl can hope, right? The possibility exists because even as you read this article, there are scientists hard at work in their labs developing better ways to stop minds from breaking down. Just think, one day PTSD might be a non-event easily eradicated by a sip of a tea-like liquid that also stops people from perpetuating racial bias. Now that's something I could get behind!
In the Scottish dialect of the old New Year's Eve song Auld Lang Syne, the composer posits the question: Should old acquaintances be forgot? The short answer to this is "Sometimes." One example will suffice. A "friend" of mine emailed me the other day and although she is not a writer, her words spoke plenty. Her first rebuke was that I don't answer her calls, and this is a claim I cannot deny. But the accusation was caustic, mean-spirited--it was as if I had neglected to visit her in the hospital, that's how grievous my omission was. She insinuated so much by those few harsh words. Why did she call? Purportedly to inform me of her physical status and that of her dog Murph. Being the obedient child I still am, I did call her afterwards, and we spoke. Mostly S spoke of her new illness--osteoarthritis of the spine--and her dog's possible diagnosis of valley fever. I listened and listened and listened until I just couldn't take it any more. The...
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