Going off meds
This is a warning to my friends and loved ones that I am going to be going off my antidepressants, Wellbutrin and Celexa. I am doing this for several reasons, but largely because they seem to be making me too sleepy to stay awake at work and also give me a generally dull, washed-out feeling, like I'm just sleepwalking through life. These days I can barely motivate myself to play video games, let alone pursue some creative endeavor. I often feel like I'm not really living.
So, if I seem more sensitive, angry, and/or less predictable soon, that is the reason.
While I'm on the precipice of this fragile mental state, it occurs to me that this would be a good time to tell you all what my pet peeve is, the thing that you should avoid doing to me at all costs. Here it is:
You do something bad to me. Not something that would only be perceived by an especially sensitive person, but something that you yourself know is grievously wrong and hurtful to me. Rather than doing the natural thing and retaliating against you, I don't react. By "not react," I mean "not react." That is, I don't start cussing at you or protest in any way, but neither do I smile and thank you for hurting me or otherwise reassure you that what you've just done is A-OK in my book. I simply retain my composure in the face of being severely wronged.
Now, here's the part that is my pet peeve: You get angry at me, anyway. You react as if I had viciously fought back against your attack. Perhaps you are reacting this way because you are feeling guilt about wronging me and are not emotionally mature enough to handle said guilt. Or, perhaps you're just an enormous asshole. But it becomes academic at that point, because I now hate your fucking guts with every last fiber of my being. It is not just a delayed reaction to the initial hurt. It is what that reaction would have been to the 10th power. Now all I want is to destroy you and everything and everyone you hold dear. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you. To borrow from my friend bramblekite, go suck Nazi cock in Hell.
Why is this my pet peeve? Well, for one thing, through a supreme act of self-control, I've just managed to save you from a raging tide of internal hatred, and you've paid me back by spitting in my face. But it also goes back to my childhood. My parents frequently treated me like shit, and then, even though I usually didn't react, they acted as if I had and got furious with me, as if they were punishing me for my thoughts.
While I am still in my civil state of mind, I am begging you, for your own sake, please do not do this to me. Yes, I'm quiet. Yes, I seem reserved. But I have decades of bottled up hatred inside of me, constantly pushing to get out. If you do the above, you will create a hole in me through which a raging torrent of that hatred will gush, all in your direction, washing you into the gutter with the rest of the sewage.
Thanks for reading and have a nice day.
So, if I seem more sensitive, angry, and/or less predictable soon, that is the reason.
While I'm on the precipice of this fragile mental state, it occurs to me that this would be a good time to tell you all what my pet peeve is, the thing that you should avoid doing to me at all costs. Here it is:
You do something bad to me. Not something that would only be perceived by an especially sensitive person, but something that you yourself know is grievously wrong and hurtful to me. Rather than doing the natural thing and retaliating against you, I don't react. By "not react," I mean "not react." That is, I don't start cussing at you or protest in any way, but neither do I smile and thank you for hurting me or otherwise reassure you that what you've just done is A-OK in my book. I simply retain my composure in the face of being severely wronged.
Now, here's the part that is my pet peeve: You get angry at me, anyway. You react as if I had viciously fought back against your attack. Perhaps you are reacting this way because you are feeling guilt about wronging me and are not emotionally mature enough to handle said guilt. Or, perhaps you're just an enormous asshole. But it becomes academic at that point, because I now hate your fucking guts with every last fiber of my being. It is not just a delayed reaction to the initial hurt. It is what that reaction would have been to the 10th power. Now all I want is to destroy you and everything and everyone you hold dear. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you. To borrow from my friend bramblekite, go suck Nazi cock in Hell.
Why is this my pet peeve? Well, for one thing, through a supreme act of self-control, I've just managed to save you from a raging tide of internal hatred, and you've paid me back by spitting in my face. But it also goes back to my childhood. My parents frequently treated me like shit, and then, even though I usually didn't react, they acted as if I had and got furious with me, as if they were punishing me for my thoughts.
While I am still in my civil state of mind, I am begging you, for your own sake, please do not do this to me. Yes, I'm quiet. Yes, I seem reserved. But I have decades of bottled up hatred inside of me, constantly pushing to get out. If you do the above, you will create a hole in me through which a raging torrent of that hatred will gush, all in your direction, washing you into the gutter with the rest of the sewage.
Thanks for reading and have a nice day.