Mental Health –

Let me start by saying, I am completely amused with that title. MENTAL HEALTH!

In another life time, in another world I met a psychiatrist, at roughly 4;30pm on a Sunday. I was attached to a table, unable to move much of anything and in an act of defiance, I didn’t move the parts I could. So there. He walked it, quick and to the point, obviously put out by being there since, obviously, it was Sunday and I, or my case as these things are so often referred to, took him away from something.

I knew this immediately by his appearance. Shoes of an athletic style. Sweat pants of the same tilt. A tee shirt, sleeves cut carelessly and unevenly off, a small slice in the front of collar. Maybe to make it easier to get over his big freaking head, his neck was pencily enough to not need the extra room.

The shirt took me aback for a moment. All these years later I think it was intentional. At that time it upset me, not sure if it was anger at being mocked or fear that this kook meant it. Both?

In the middle of this mutilated heather grey tee where big blue lettered words, “Support Mental Health or I’ll Kill You”

All these years later, I want one.

He was cool, a ranking officer with a sense of humor and above all, the power to have my restraints removed. Thank you colonel, I am not sure I ever said that to you.

Now, do any of you recall the commercial for Zoloft, with the little white bouncing sad face? An emotion moving around or maybe a thought, given a bubble face form to represent sadness?  My favorite part of these commercials was  the disclaimer on the bottom, “This is a dramatization.” Well, thanks for clearing that up! I have to think anyone needing that particular bit of in formation would be in line for something with a bit more kick than Zoloft. I did find the ending, with the smiley bouncing face reassuring. Good thing too.

My new, add on, second level, mental health professional has selected that as my new course of treatment. Seems my sad face has bounced itself into a corner and is being ganged up on. I am reluctant, to say the very least, about being on meds. Think about it, I drank enough beer and turkey to drown a small heard of cows.  The same people that want me to take these meds called that self medicating! Sheesh!

Of course, this stuff may not make me want to do disrobe as much as turkey did.  Or, if it does, maybe I will wait till I am indoors.

Two things really bug me about this. Since I know you just asked, I will tell you what they are. Be patient.

1) As dark as the dark parts are, they are countered almost 1=1 with bright, light, amazing parts. There is balance, even if the places between are steep and frightening to descend and a huge pain in the ass to ascend. There is a part of me that likes my volatility. I like looking at things from over here, and not having anything stop me from saying what I think of it. I do not want to loose that.

2) “It will help you be more like yourself again.” What the FK? Who are you talking about? I don’t have a clue who that is! I do not recall a time when there was not a dark side, raging and screaming at, pushing to get in and coloring everything with it’s own pallet and brushes.  Who am I going to be like again? That’s scarier than being the me I am now – by a long shot!

You see, when I get all hang-my-self or hot-bath-razor-blade sad, I just get over it with ice cream, writing and the basic thought that I am a pussy and not willing to hurt myself for no satisfaction. There has to be that ability to review the moment and enjoy it, in order to make the risk worth while. I am past pain for pain’s sake. Let the kid’s have it. I have enough pain just getting out of bed or up from a chair to satisfy that.

I like writing from the black. Trying to bring this shit kicking and screamin’ into the light for other people to see. I’ve said it before and will a million more times – when put into words, that someone else can read, it looses all its strength. It’s there, its ugly and its sad but it is powerless.

I don’t tell you this crap to shock you or get your get better notes. This is not for you at all. This is how I stay out of the tub without standing in line at walmart.

That being said, I am off to walmart to see what a generic form of Zoloft will cost me. Going to take as directed. I fail to see how head aches, diarrhea and sore throats are going to lessen any depression I am  experiencing but, I am also committed to follow through as I made an agreement to do so.

I must be less suicidal than I was a few weeks ago anyway. My to-do list is not shrinking as quickly as it was. Hard to think of that as a good sign. Some of this crap really needs to be done now matter when or how I die! These freaking birds can live to be twenty! Why wasn’t I informed about that?

More later. Oh yea, I am sure there will be more on this. Oh yea, more eye tests on May 7th. It just gets better and better.

Peace, Ant-Knee