Feeling a bit better today. I went to see my psychiatrist and got a pill switcheroo. Off with the lexapro and lamictal, on with the wellbutrin and topamax. I am feeling pleased and hopeful. Preliminary internet research predicts drastic weight loss, I'm so, so ready.
It's a hot night in echo park and downtown shimmers from the window, silver and orange skyscrapers tipped with red lights. The ground is darker than the sky, the freeways hustles always. The cat and rabbit are flopped, waiting, waiting for the evening to cool and the fan to end its squeaking.
Last night was really horrible, the death of Athena just triggered this horrible depression, and I kind of went off the deep end. They are together again now, and it is time for me to move on. I can, I should, I just really should hose off and move the empty cage, fold it up in the closet so I don't have to look at it and see death.
I'm hoping that the new antidepressants lift me up a bit. There's only so much one can block things and blind things. Last night I was staring the perceived emptiness of my life square in the face, and it took ambien, ativan, a good nights sleep and some quality time with my dear girlfriend to really put me to rights.
My life is not empty. It was, I think, the feeling after finishing two fairly all-consuming (and again narcissistic) projects, that of redoing my website with the tumblr platform and embedding my blog with amazon tags (hi, amazon) and enhancing the links and pics and whatnot. As I'm on SSDI, I have to assign myself projects or else I go batshit.
An old writing teacher at CalArts used to talk about my thesis as an effort to fill the void with anything and everything, whether drugs, sex, rampant socializing, boozing it up, etc... Now in my newly cleaned up life, there are far fewer things I am willing to throw into that void. I seem to have latched on to the internet as a way to fill that, the emptiness of living, free time mangement, etc...
That's an equation I can accept. I remember the old devil's bargain a friend and I made, pinky-swore, that we'd rather be drug addicts than fat. I'm done with drugs, and trying to be done with fat. What next? Veganism? Scientology? Reiki? Master Cleanse? Oh hell no.
I'm lashing my wagon to pills. please, get me over this pass.