It has been roughly 4 months or so since I have been off my happy pills. And by happy pills I mean the lil notso tic-tacs that numbed absolutely every ounce of feelings I may have never even had had.
I didn’t necessarily choose to go off them either. Essentially, I ran out and needed another script, and my excuse of being ‘too busy’ was something I was starting to believe in. Eventually when I did have time to go into see the quack I instead didn’t. Something was different in me. This time, I didnt feel the need to fulfill another three months of dullness. Before as soon as I was nearing two weeks worth of meds I would have anxiety attacks if I couldn’t see the quack. In fact, I would usually try to get my medication a month before it would finish, but the pharmers always denied my request.
This time, well this time it’s different. I’m not on any medication, only breakfast Plan B as needed. I am, believe it or not, feeling not just better, but actually feeling. And unlike right before the demise of Cait and onto the cycle of pharmaceuticals my emotins aren’t from one extreme to another. Before I wouldn’t just have a quick cute cry, instead I would sob for hours upon hours truly being a sad bitch. When I was angry I would be flipping mother fucking raging, and when I was happy I was absolutely delirious. Now, these extremes are further from me now, and to be honest I am enjoying the distance.
When I first went on the rollercoaster ride of pharmaceutical blues, and found the right match for my craziness, I was incredibly thankful. It came when I truly needed it. I didn’t have anymore anxiety, and my saddness had dimished. However, after a year and somet ime being on these meds, I didn’t feel much of anything. I didn’t care much. I didn’t do anything. I was very much an empty shell. The person I once was, was somewhere over the rainbow.
This emptiness caused me to find another source of fulfillment. Alcohol. I have always been a fan of the liquid diet, but it became more extreme. I would have a bottle of wine a night, if not a bottle a six pack of beer, if not that then hard bar.
I would often go to bars to hang out with other sad saps like myself. Now, how sad is that, a lonely heart joining all the other lonely hearts out there and we aren’t even socializing. Just sitting side by side, at the bar, being just a bunch of fucking lonely wallflowers. Lonliness is not a nice feeling, but at least I could feel just a little bit again on my own terms.
Now, the problem with alcohol is it often leads to other things. For me, drugs and sex.
Drugs were something I never did sober, (for the most part). Sure, I may do a bump or pop a perc pre-party, but on any other standard Cait night I wouldn’t. However, when drinking every night became a standard night for me, the drugs occurred more frequently and instead of the utter sadness that alcohol would bring, drugs would bring me fucking ecstasy! It was phenominal. I was more alert, I was social, I was fucking happy and felt on top of the fucking world! I didn’t feel pain or sadness. That is, until I was hungover and coming off the ride. Those times, I was the lowest I could possibly feel.
When drinking and on drugs, sex was the next thing I craved. The best part was that the feelings weren’t just emotional, it was physical. Absolutely euphoria! My whole body was being seduced in this world o
f lust, while in reality I was just being fucked. Fucked. Fucked and fucked.
But, this time friends, it honestly is different. Like I said, I’m off the medication. I like having my old ‘Cait feelies’ back. My cravings aren’t that of alcohol, drugs of sex.
This time instead, I crave pizza.
Cait-Interrupted 