Dogs and things

Today was a really good day. So good that I felt the need to post here. But now I realize that I have nothing else to say, and it's probably a waste of your time to read this, so I give you a picture of a dog.

Too serious

I haven’t really blogged about my medication life lately, and it’s something I really want to talk about right now.

Back in February, I was diagnosed with depression and prescribed anti-depressants. I was originally stoked for this. I was all like, “Yeah man! I’m never going to be sad again!” I really was so excited. And I really thought that it wouldn’t take a toll on my brain and what I think about myself. I honestly thought that it was just another medication that I had to take to make myself “normal”. I ended up being very wrong. Learning to cope with my depression has actually been kind of hard for me to deal with. I can’t really explain it, but some days the world comes crashing down on me and I can’t get it off. Here is an example of one of those days:

A couple weeks after starting on this medication, I met my family in Las Vegas for my little sister’s volleyball tournament. The night I flew in, I was so tired. I hadn’t slept for thirty plus hours and I desperately needed to. So after a nice dinner with my parents and possibly the funniest couple I have ever met in my life, my parents and I headed to the hotel. I really needed to sleep, but I stayed up for a couple hours with my parents, and watched TV and caught up and stuff. We actually talked a little bit about the defunding of Planned Parenthood, and props to my wonderful mother for being such a good sport. She doesn’t usually like to listen to my dad and I debate about politics. (I am liberal and he is conservative, and that can lead to a few heated discussions, but we both love it so much. Luckily, him and I have a similar sense of humor. Our debates usually end in talking about farts or watching a hilarious video on You Tube, such as Dramatic Chipmunk. We love that one.) Mom actually put in her two-cents, which I thought was fantastic! I had never heard her talk about her stance on political issues and it was nice to find out that her and I have similar views. (Go Mom!)

So we did eventually all go to bed (I had to sleep on the pull out mattress in the couch, and it was really sucky.) I ended up waking up late because I needed sleep so badly, and I felt so bad but my parents were very nice. They told me to take my time getting ready and that they would come back later and pick me up. So that’s what I did.

That morning, while I was taking my medication, I was really worried how I was going to behave around my parents and how they would react to my behavior. It’s not like it was anything to worry about, but they had never seen me on this type of medication before, so it was a stressful moment for me. Looking back on it, I think I was worried because before with the Adderall, my parents had decided to put me on medication, and with the anti-depressants it was my decision. I can actually say that this was the first real adult decision I have made. I think I was nervous because I felt like I needed their approval of this medication. Now I realize that it’s really my happiness and success that matter, and if this medication helps, then that’s what I need.

In case you were wondering, my behavior was completely normal that day. It’s not like I was acting out or being socially awkward.

The real problem happened when the medication wore off. One thing I have noticed on anti-depressants is that it’s very easy to tell when they are no longer in your system. “How?” you ask? Here is how.

The world sucks. Everything becomes so much worse than it should be. And here are a couple examples.

While my sister was playing that day, I noticed approximately four ants on the ground (actually, it was exactly four) and whenever I see bugs anywhere, I kill them. I always have, well at least ever since a brown recluse bit me when I was 7. So, naturally, I killed those four ants. Usually it wouldn’t have been a big deal at all, but this time, I felt like scum. I killed four ants! Killed! Meaning I took four innocent lives! Those ants could have been the best ants ever! They could have been champion ant Olympians, and I ruined their careers! They were mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters! I broke their families! I am a life ruin-er!

I almost started crying right then and there, but I realized that I was blowing the situation out of proportion. So I calmed my self down.

We later went to Wendy’s and the woman that took our order had horrible teeth, and something similar happened. I felt so bad that she didn’t have all her teeth and the ones that were there weren’t straight or white. I almost started to cry again because I felt bad for this woman and her teeth. But I calmed my self down again.

Sometimes I like being on anti-depressants. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I become numb and really just don’t care about anything. And being numb is probably the worst feeling in the world. Other times, it feels like I have a buffer on my life. Like if something bad happens, I will be okay. That doesn’t happen very often though. It’s usually just the numbness. Maybe I just have to get used to the medication, but I really hate it right now. It’s making it much harder for me to accept that I have depression, which probably shouldn’t be happening. The numbness is confusing my body. I want to cry because that’s what I am used to doing when I am feeling down, but it’s like someone turned off my tear ducts.

However, yesterday I saw my doctor again, and she prescribed me the same medication, but a longer-lasting kind. So that’s probably why I am feeling the numbness. I need to get used to this new dosage. But I don’t want to. I just want to cry.

Yes. I did just write about burritos.

Chipotle.

It's the best experience ever:

You walk in the front door and grimace at the horribly long line in front of you. "Why does everyone love the best food in the world?" you think to yourself. But you join the line anyway because you know that it's going to be worth it.

While you are waiting in line, you are thinking about what you are going to get. You think to yourself, "Do I want pinto beans or black beans? Chicken or steak? Wait! Do I want tacos this time? That might be nice. I know! I am going to get a carnitas burrito bowl with pinto beans! Yes! That is going to be so good!" And you are so proud of yourself too, because you are finally branching out and trying something new.

There is nothing like the feeling of finally making it up to the glass shield covering all the scrumptious fillings for your gold-wrapped, amazing burrito. But you decided that you weren't going to get a burrito. A burrito bowl is what's up. But you see the tortilla guy warming up all those delicious, huge flour torillas and you impulsively say, "Steak burrito with black beans". You know that this isn't what you want and you are beating yourself up over the fact that you gave into your usual order. But this way you most definitely know that you will be leaving satisfied.

This next step is the hardest part of the burrito process. You get to the salsa/lettuce/cheese/sour cream/guacamole section. You know that you want tomatoes, corn, lettuce, and cheese, but the guac part is the hardest. Do you splurge and spend $1.80 on some guacamole that will take your burrito to the next level, or do you settle for a delicious pocket from heaven? The answer: do it. You get your guacamole on your burrito because you know you will regret it if you don't.

After you pay for your food, you go find the cleanest table, and sit down. You take your first bite, and it's probably all rice, but you keep eating until the top layer of tortilla is gone and you can align your burrito in a fashion that allows you take a bite with every flavor in it. As soon as you think you are ready, you dive in. Oh how delicious. Words cannot express how much flavor and love is having a fiesta in your mouth. It's so good that you keep eating and eating. You might look like a rabid animal devouring your food in a way that is not socially acceptable, but you don't care. You can't take a break from something this delicious.

You notice that you are content and full around the midpoint of the burrito. But it's just so good that you can't stop, so you man up and dive back in, but more slowly because you can feel your stomach stretching and becoming more uncomfortable.

After you reach your "Hey, I just ate three-quarters of this burrito!" point, you set your burrito down and look at it. You think, "I can't do it. It's too much. I am in pain because I am so full." So you push your burrito away and just look at it for a little bit.

After looking at your burrito for about ten minutes, you say, "Fuck it. I am finishing this burrito." You eat your burrito in silence, and after you are done you lean back and sit in pain, but you are so happy.

So very happy.