|||||skinny puppy - one time one place||]|
Each and every day now I swallow a miniscule amount of clonazepam. I guess my last post was at the end of December. I think that January through to March were spent with some very troubling effects regarding clonazepam and its subsequent ingestion, and some time around the beginning of April I chose to regulate my doses and try to quit once again. I was down to 0.25mg a day and feeling ok after about three weeks of hell. The drop from 0.5 to 0.25, though such a tiny amount, wreaked havoc on my ability to make eye contact. So after about a month I tried dropping to 0.125 again but the withdrawal was instantly apparent. My physician explained to me that it was pretty obvious to her that my chemistry was very very sensitive to clonaz and that if I can sustain a comfortable interactive reality while swallowing half an orange pill each day, it's probably better that I do it, and that I shouldn't feel weak for having to. Another thought in my mind mentioned that it may be a largely psychological placebo-based effect and began to wonder how a psychiatric experiment would fare on this situation. It's hard to approach a medical professional and ask them to feed you monitored dosages of, alternately, clonazepam and starch pills to see if I could survive from taking 0.25mg of placebo each day. I dunno. It's likely.
The whole situation makes me a little disappointed in myself in spite of all this. Medication aside, I think that it is a sad reality in which the established society in all of its forms does not constructively cater to the psychological requirements of each individual. Why can society not be more maleable, rather than forcing a chemcial maleability upon those in whom normality does not rest well. I'm not saying that I'm freakishly different or anything, and may even be speaking more on behalf of those forced on doses of 5mg daily or stuck in the nasty worlds of SSRIs or antipsycotics of any sort.. On yet another plain, the need for self-medication, illicit or not... why the majority of people I know self medicate multiple nights each week with the ingestion of alcohol, cigarettes, cocaine, grass, &c&c&c. Does this say something about this sick city that nobody cares to face? Why does the established and successful lawyer reach for his bottle of brandy upon returning home after work? Could it be that maybe 0.5% of human beings (or at least metropolitan north americans) utterly abhore their involuntary daily 'chores'? Is what we've created so unnatural that these forms of coping have become virtual staples of social existance?
Bleh. To me, now, "_Deprivation_" goes so far beyond that of clonazepam, having encompassed a fistful of other things used to validate or comfort the day-to-day operations of the diseased mind; I almost need a hermitage away from harmful company, heartbreak, and drugs of all shapes & sizes in order to fully appreciate deprivation. I need the absence of my home, security, shelter and, god forbid, my cats, in order to truly appreciate that which would be life without mechanisms facilitating tolerance.