Some twenty years ago I got bummed out. One evening I was watching the miserable news, and a commercial came on and offered me a pill for depression. I asked my doctor if it was right for me and he said, "Yes!"
Three weeks later, I found myself staring into the bathroom mirror with a big goofy grin on my face. I was holding my hand in the shape of a gun, with my index finger extended as the barrel. I was trying to figure out the best angle to use in order to blow my soul out of my skull.
I quit that day, cold turkey. After a couple of days I had to deal with what I call "the electric brain worm", where it felt like a worm was cork-screwing in my brain every 15 minutes or so. Those tapered off after about three months.
I wasn't "depressed". I was bummed out. We're supposed to work that shit out, not take a God-damned pill.
You're mind was thinking all faggy and shit.
They sold you drugs.
If they worked, Awesome. If the didn't work, Awesome.
They were sold, regardless.
I think most of it is realizing that reality isn't actually fair, and the world isn't perfect, and that in the end, you will die in pain and suffering and quite probably alone.
But let's go help someone today.
(post is archived)