Tuesday, November 15, 2005

The contribution of medications

The day started alright.

I stayed in bed for a little bit more because I sort of got a cold, my gum did not feel too well and I, to be honest, did not really want to wake up.

Got out of the bus, I found myself not yet able to think.

I figured that it is either I was still in a state of sleep walking or the effect of the morning pill, Zoloft, had not kicked in.

Arriving at my office, I found myself not quite sure how to get the engine started.

After the consumption of a full cup of coffee, a chocolate scorn, and a smoke later, I found the inner meow awaken, ready to tackle the tasks at hand with no reservation.

With the help of my second coffee of the day, I found my brain firing away and my mood elevated.

Later in the afternoon, I finally made it to the class. The body getting tired though the brain was still working.

Getting back to work, I was back to feeling the ordinary sense of hyperactivity.

The only difference observed was… I could not stop crave for food. I searched through the refrigeration looking for food.

Food was the only thing in my mind… I want food.

When I finally got settled down and when people in the office were gone for the day, I sat down to do my time for the night shift.

Gradually, I found myself getting more and more tired.

I wanted to go home. I was ready to crash.

Despite of the sense of amotivation, I strived to hold on the last thing I have called “discipline.”

Interventions applied to human beings need to be grounded on theories.

Research questions, hypotheses and evaluation measures have to be derived from sound theoretical framework.

I could see the skeleton and now is the time to beef it up with meat.

“Attachment” is the key word submitted. Using attachment as a key word returned thousands and thousands of publications.

It was a long long time ago when I last touched the attachment topic, in theory and in practice.

The last time I tried to search for literature about attachment, I had not crossed the boundary of sanity and insanity.

It was the same feeling I had the other day when I put on that bright orange t-shirt of mine with words writing across--- “Fugitive (You never saw me). The same feeling I got, the day before, when I found the picture of mine as the bride’s maid at my best friend’s wedding.

The last time I walked down the street with this shirt was in 2001. The text written on the shirt was my statement for all those people who were watching (both in reality and in imagination).

In the picture taken at my friend’s wedding, I was the replacement bride’s maid who happened to fit into the dress my friend’s parents brought from Taiwan while the other friend could not fit into it.

The last time I touched the attachment theory was long before I walked down the street with that orange shirt and before my friend’s cousin, after the wedding ceremony, described me as a geisha because of the heavy makeup applied to the face above that overseas dress.

Both the shirt and the wedding picture were acquired at a precious time of ignorance.

It was a time when I did not know that I could be psychotic. It was also a time when I was in the dire of the onset of my psychotic episode. It was a time when I thought I knew something about psychopathology.

At the same time, it is amazing to see my mind generating nonsensical questions such as, “Is God trying to tell me something.” It is even more interesting to see how a mind could group a bunch of insignificant events together to come up with some indicator of some sort of significance.

Let me get back to my ordinary chore of the day so that tangential thoughts could not lead me off the track of reality…

After I reshelf my babies (I mean laptops and their accessories), I hurriedly packed up my stuff so as to head back to my rat nest for I felt that I was about to crash.

Carrying my heavy backpack plus a bug full of 5 pairs of shoes doesn’t really make it easy to walk (courtesy of my beloved boss and her ever growing daughter lol).

I found myself dragging my two feet and all the weights above them worse than usual.

It almost feels like I was the hunchback in Notre Dame, sluggishly moving down Broadway, when the weight of the backpack could no longer help to adjust the posture.

Dragging myself down the road, I moved passed these two lady carrying a conversation on the sidewalk.

I overheard one said, “… and a short career.”

I thought to myself… “Are they talking about my short career at my new position?”

I, immediately, corrected myself, “Delusional.”

I was able to immediately let go of that incidence because I found myself starting to be crushed by the invisible weight placed… overall.

1-2 more blocks later… An image came into my mind and revealed to me the key to the puzzle.

Why have I been feeling this way?

I saw the remaining part of the Zoloft before I placed it into the pill cutter this morning.

I could see the 50% line on the remaining portion of Zoloft when I was putting it down.

I must have thought to myself then… “Today is a lower dosage day.”

It also occurred to me that I had skipped my dosage on Sunday because I woke up late and did not rush to go anywhere. That day, I did feel pretty depressed and did get caught by the benchmark though of depression… “Am I but wasting the resources on this planet?”

More over, it has been a week or two since the dosage of Zoloft is cut back down.

That explains why I have been feeling so very tired so easily and so frequently recently.

In my mind, I heard myself saying, “I’d rather be a happy psychotic than a depressed neurotic.”

That had almost turned to be one of my motto.

The only minor problem now is… Unfortunately, I might have to go through sometime being a depressed psychotic.

The system, again, is trying to reach a state of equilibrium. Just I don’t know when… and I will not allow myself to talk like this again for there is food, exercise, coffee, cigarette and etc that would eventually help me to reinvent… (got the feeling that I gotta give my positive self a chance to throw in its two cents.. lol)

Never promised you a rose garden, eh….


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