When I was admitted to the mental hospital, I was clean, as of not using any medication. When I was dismissed seven weeks later, it was with a budding addiction to prescription drugs. The irony.
When I moved, I had to change my psychiatrist. My current psychiatrist is a jerk. Most psychiatrists are, in my experience, but this one is even more so. His solution are prescription drugs. The addictive kind.
From my most recent psychiatrist appointment, I returned with a prescription for Lexaurin, the anti-anxiety drug. It’s a present-day version of Valium. In other words, something you don’t want to get addicted to. Inevitably, you get addicted when you use it because, duh, it’s an addictive substance.
I’m supposed to have my Lexaurin for emergencies only. Except it’s always an emergency. I’m trying to avoid abusing it, but it’s rather tempting because the effect is practically instant. Imagine you’re shaking like a vibrator (for lack of a better comparison) and when you take the pink pill, it stops.
It’s awesome. I imagine that’s how normal people feel on a regular basis. I suspect being normal is rather enjoyable. Obviously, when you’re normal, you don’t appreciate it because it’s normal for you. So what’s the point? Dunno. Probably that there’s something bad (like addiction) to everything good (like Lexaurin)?