After being diagnosed with everything from attention deficit disorder to just being an asshole, it�s kind of a relief to be able to put a name to a personality disorder. And here I was just thinking I was cranky! However, any good manic-depressive will tell you that being diagnosed is just the beginning. Next comes the fun part: drugs. Mind bending, mood altering drugs.
Me being already somewhat of an atypical personality to begin with, it was sometimes difficult for me to determine where I ended and where the drugs began. Now that definitely plays with your head a bit. Since I was FINALLY diagnosed at the age of fifteen, I was started on a drug called paxil. 60 milligrams a day. I liked it so much, I used it as my e-mail address. But, apparently, Paxil wasn�t the drug for me. It made me gain weight, and after a few years, became totally ineffective. Bummer. Next, they put me on a little druggie called Celexa. Fine, great.
Things were going well, for about six months or so, until I noticed some problems. One, my short-term memory was shot. Never good to begin with, it had become absolutely useless. I could probably introduce myself to the same person eight times in one evening. Next, I was still depressed. I came home after a miserable semester in college and my doctor took me off of it. I did fight the urge to throttle him when he said: �Oh, yes. Now that you mention it, Celexa has been known to cause memory problems.� Thanks for telling me now, nimrod.
I was off the sauce for the entire summer, was utterly despondent, so the doctor put me on a new medication: Effexor. Say it with me, Effexor. Let it roll off your tongue, it�s fun. So far, I�ve been okay. I ran out a while ago and had a mild brown out, but I�m back and more heavily medicated than ever! Life is good.
That�s all I have to say on the subject of manic depression. Well, one last thing, you should see my room when I have a manic episode! You could eat off the floor!
