Good morning peeps! I've devoted too much emotion to "omg... I forgot about the car insurance" brain drive & flippen tf out about keeping the debt hole fed. It needs to be fed. I forgot about that, too. Things need constant feeding. 

What if that's the final thought when AI decides it for us? Things need constant feeding. Why things? As paraders of epic materialism ourselves, to be reduced to disposable material  as the thing we created turns sentient. For the arc of the story, there must be judgment. People are obsessed with it.

Morning dark pontifications aside, onto other dark pontifications. I am worried about a young lady who has fallen into a dark place. She is a special soul. There's a truth that shines in her. She is close to my son.

Somehow she has landed in a mental hospital. These places are not Celebrity Betty Ford or Girl Interrupted. Angelina is not running around with asylum girl teased hair. Mostly it is creepers that make one uncomfortable to consider going zombie when they slip you the shit. Catatonia is defenseless. Not that this person is being tranquilized, but aren't you always if you're there?

Years ago both my brother and my husband took some tiny little psychiatric drug meant for schizophrenia or something bc they were convinced it was "fun". My brother said he couldn't make it up the four stairs to the bathroom. He said it was like your brain just melted and fall into a sleep that lasts seemingly days.

My husband took it and attempted to go to college. He had a class at a place 25 minutes out. It hit him when he got there. Little backstory: my husband is a Slav & has an eastern European accent. This was shortly after 9/11 and he was sporting these Tom Waits inspired corduroy pants that i had made as a novice pants maker. He was having a bad day, for one the tie rod on the rich burgundy upholstery on a hot, hot day, in an inherited Ford Tauras that was also burgundy on the outside. As a Euro ( an Euro? ) he was confident enough to freeball it that day, a choice that would haunt him when these pants rip straight down the ass crack seam.

Legit. Early 2000s and he didn't own a cell, broke down with this busted front end, crazy foreigner with his ass out. Good times.

Soo... This tiny ass pill, smaller than a baby aspirin, puts a giant down. When husband took it, after this other drama RIGHT AT THE GATE TO THE SCHOOL where he broke down,  he's melting on the floor and needing to crawl to the bathroom or some shit. He had to call from a payphone for someone to rescue him, AGAIN. 

Now, after these two dumb asses do this dumb thing, both reporting how horrible it was, has the remainder been disposed? Fuck no. It is left in a B vitamin bottle in the public medicine cabinet. It is Saturday and i wait tables at a Japanese restaurant tonight. B vitamins will give me energy.

After these protracted messages left like i was the drunkest person begging for people to cover my shif, (love it that it was recorded proof for many co workers). I didn't know what was happening. I couldn't get out words right. 

I explained my case, written up anyway. Then they brought up that it was suspected i wasn't wearing a bra to work. We were in vests & my shit was super industrial grandma bra so i was totally wtf bitch?? Minute judgment is rendered suddenly you're now guilty of any deviant behavior. It must be her.

I melted into a pillow & drooled for like a day. I've never awoke to a drool puddle before but this shit will do that. 

I had a dr prescribe me zoloft for depression. Again tiniest of pills. Took it early am, and 20 hours later, after going to bed, i awoke to this slamming heart that felt i was as close to a heart attack I've ever been. Didn't put it together.

Two days later, this bottle has same pharmacy, same blue color and shape as my routine hormone. What happens? I awake to the same effect, feeling about to die. I was wringing my hands and feet, drinking tea until it left. I counted the zoloft and realized there were 2 missing. Big nope.

I do think chemistry can do miracles, but it isn't a cure. It is an abatement. There are some for whom it is a salvation, and others a nightmare. I feel it is like "dabbling" in say spell casting or brain surgery, like it is a precise science but the way we can be so casual about these things that can truly warp your brain is a problem. 

I am mental. I am manic. I am furious and apathetic. I can't feel. I feel too much. Round and round and round. Spinning like a blue earth, waiting for you to love her.