The Art of Self-Medication

Wed Jul 09 2003 08:32PM -0600

I have always maintained that, yes, drugs are the answer (I am talking about prescription drugs here, Mr. Ashcroft!) Better living through chemistry.

Although I feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin.

They say that niacin, tryptophan, and benztropine are very helpful with akathisia (this feeling of restlessness), and while the first two are readily available at the grocery store, the last is a prescription drug usually only reserved for people with Alzheimer's and schizophrenics on antipsychotics suffering from dystonia.

But I must say that I am much better able to handle defeat these days. I mean, sure, I can still get sad, but, hey, life goes on. (In the words of Voltaire's Candide, I must tend the Garden.) Thankfully, I am apparently naturally anti-social in the summertime, and so I don't care all that much that I'm alone. (But, yeah, obviously, I still do care since I found it necessary to write that sentence. Bleh.)

(Bitterness is such an inadequate word at this point. I wish I could think of something even more comical and absurd.)

You win some, you lose some. (Or, blessed as I am with my outrageous luck [scroll to the bottom quote] with regards to love and war, you lose some, and then you lose some more, and just when you think you might actually win, you lose again. Ah, luck. O, fortuna. I would give you a wet, sloppy kiss if you weren't just an embodiment of an idea.)

But I exaggerate. (Just in general, I do.) As I am oft reminded, things can always be worse.

(You would think I were tempting fate to ask, "Just how much worse?" but whatever is going to happen, is going to happen, will-I, nil-I. Oh well.)

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