So lovely. So soft. Fuzzy. Warm.
On Effexor, paranoia is spread out like peanut butter on white bread. It’s diffused, all concentration gone. It’s less important. That’s what happens when the salmon-colored tablets pole dance down my throat. It brings my humanity back to a bearable point and whispers to my mind that it’s been wrong all this time. But who is right? Should I be paranoid? Isn’t there a truly dark and terrible reason for my depression? Or is Effexor right? There is no reason for the depression. There isn’t really anything to be paranoid about. And if there is a reason, who cares?
Romanticizing authors for their love of alcohol is why many are as popular as they are, or at least one of the reasons they’re adored. Everyone loves to think someone so messed up can create something so loved. And there are a ton of messed up authors. Hemingway, Dorothy Parker, Poe; the list (15 top drunks here) is pretty endless. All the cool writerly types get hammered when getting fat at their keyboard. At least they used to.
Now they’re on Effexor.
Effexor is why I can listen to Linkin Park’s Meteora album while driving (at the speed limit) in my Volvo without feeling like people will think I’m old. I was already old when the album came out. It’s why writers don’t need to drink. It’s a lullaby for an anxious existence. It’s Wyeth-Ayerst Lab’s gift of sublime “synapsical” serotonin. Thanks you guys. I can alter my existence without throwing up now. Only I can’t leave your drug. It won’t let me.
The mid 90s came with turbulence. Bad relationships, new homes, mortgages, higher incomes, 3-D puzzles, Voltron, Princess Diana, Mike Tyson’s ear eating, and then came Effexor. It’s been a smooth ride since, like sitting in the backseat of your grandpa’s Buick Park Avenue.
Only he was a drunk.
Hello Patrick!
How can I change my subscription to your blog through my new email staceylimone@gmail.com ?…
🙂
Stacey
On Wed, May 25, 2016 at 3:57 PM, patrick whitehurst wrote:
> patrickwhitehurst posted: ” So lovely. So soft. Fuzzy. Warm. On Effexor, > paranoia is spread out like peanut butter on white bread. It’s diffused, > all concentration gone. It’s less important. That’s what happens when the > salmon-colored tablets pole dance down my throat. It brings m” >
Trying, Stacey! But doing it on your end may be easier!
Computer in shop. Thanks for your comments – I'll be responding when I get up and running again.
Hope your computer gets better soon!
Well, cha cha cha ching. It’s all better, and upgrade to a new OS and now I have to figure out things like how to get my email and open up a browser.
True story: I thought I was sending you an email and had no idea that was an actual comment on your post.
I’m not even sure how to send emails on wordpress! But I was updated to Windows 10 this afternoon (it appears to be mandatory).
It’s probably not an actual thing- sending emails via WP.
If I were smarter, I’d invent that.
If I were richer, I’d hire you to invent that.
If you hired me, I’d invent email you can type with your mind.
I think you should invent email I can type with my dog’s mind.
If I did all your friends would be on endless trips for treats. Not to mention scent updates from the walkies.
True. Life would be a helluva lot simpler if email were based on dog thoughts.
Except for the inevitable push to politicize hydrant etiquette.
That, and the no biscuit left behind rule.
With some claiming they have the best biscuit policy, but no details, while others might have their biscuit history under investigation.
Absinthe and Effexor only without the absinthe.
I have still never tried that. It’s green, right? I want some.
I haven’t either, but I recently heard of a place in Oregon that sells it! Yup, I think it’s green.
Just another reason why Oregon is the coolest state. And literally cool, by the sea, in the winter, etc.,
Literally.
Sweaters. Oregon sweaters.
Oregon is more of a flannel-type place.
Flannels rocks.
Hell yeah. I have my favorite flannel shirt/jacket that I got here. It’s pink, purple, green, and blue pastel. I look like a total badass.
People probably get nervous when they talk to you and everything.
Even more so when I’m wielding my hemp backpack.
That’s because you could have something sketchy in there, like reading material and a water bottle.