I was just thinking it would be nice if pharmaceutical companies would start making cereals for adults. If Lucky Charms came with antidepressant marshmallows, it would sell better than hot cakes. It would sell like Lucky Charms with antidepressant marshmallows.
I started taking an antidepressant not too long ago. I'd resisted for a long time thinking that happiness should not come in the form of a pill. Then I remembered I was lazy, and I figured if taking pill can make me happy and allow me to ignore the underlying causes of depression, it’s so worth it. And I'm so doing it.
Does it work? Absolutely! Before Z., I was always anxious, nervous and slightly depressed. The slightest obstacle or challenge would overwhelm me, like when my agent would send me out for a commercial audition and tell me they wanted actors to dress in a "hip, business casual" outfit. I'd be torn. Should I wear a business suit with a studded leather belt? Jeans with a blazer? Get a tattoo? Should I pierce an eyebrow with a pearl earring so I could walk that fine line between hip and classy? I'd always get freaked out.
Since taking Z., that kind of thing doesn't bother me. In fact, I'm able to cope with even worse situations with surprising aplomb. Take, for instance, what happened to me last week. I was babysitting a good friend's two year old boy and had to step out of the apartment for a few minutes to buy a pack of cigarettes and a fifth of gin at a store a few blocks away. Normally I'd worry about doing such a thing, but I'd just put the Shrek DVD in and Bobby loved Shrek.
At the store I run into an ex-boyfriend of mine and end up talking with him for about 15 minutes. He asked me if I wanted to grab a drink and I said yes. Then, remembering I was babysitting, I told him I'd take a rain check, that I needed to be a responsible adult. So I get my gin and Camel lights and head back to the apartment. Outside I notice a large crowd of people and a couple fire trucks. Then I see that smoke is coming from the building.
Well, people are crying and carrying on. Everyone but me. Because I'm on a wonderful antidepressant, I'm able to approach a police officer and calmly say, "Excuse me, officer, but my two year old boy is in apartment 312. Would you be a dear and save him for me?" I said it was my kid because I thought it would be easier than explaining the parents were at a screening of Hitch and that I was babysitting.
My point is that the old Laura would have cried and freaked out and gotten really emotional over the whole thing. Drugged up Laura was calm and collected. And when Bobby's parents came back to a charred apartment (Bobby was fine, by the way) and started yelling at me, I knew it wasn't my fault, and was able to let them yell at me to get rid of their emotion. I put myself in their situation and realized they weren't thinking straight on account of the fact that they were scared their son could have been killed. At the end of their tirade I said, "Looks like some people need some Prozac!" Then we all laughed.
Everyone should take this stuff.