Have you ever possessed something that you dearly loved, or rather, needed, but the damned thing is never working properly?
I got a fine example of such thing inside my own very skull.
This fucking Central Neural System.
You pack it with Sertraline, no effect.
You fill it with Risperidone, you get a drooling person who doesn't feel anything.
You put it on Venlafaxine, tastes to him like fucking sweetened water.
Then, one wonderful day, you put him on the most dangerous antidepressant that exists, and things seemed to have worked. It is flooded with good feelings, rather than bad ones.
And it lasts...for two months.
Now it's back on its shitty state. Moody. Needy.
Sometimes I expect a fucking massive headache to form inside, and along with it, a fucking stroke. Due to some sorta old food I've eaten inadvertently. Tyramine, more than 6 mg.
Everything is losing sense. And fast.
I just hope that this may be the vitrual syphon I've put on my younger sister, to drain from her the depression. Well, it seems to be working. The better she gets, the worse I get.
Depression. Consider yourself lucky, if you were born without this malady.
Shit'll fuck you up in ways you have no idea could even be possible. And no matter what you do, what doctor you see, what fucking med you'll take...it will always make its comeback, sooner or later.
Well, I felt fine for two months. It was good while it lasted. Now, back to normal...
...the same old self-loathing....
...the old same lack of confidence...
...the same old loneliness....
Some things are eternal, in certain people. Like me.
