Since I stopped using Xanax a month or so ago I must admit I don’t sleep as well, but I also don’t have any of the weird side effects that went with taking the drug. I would really like to know whose idea this drug was, or this class of drugs, and I would also like to know how much money they are making off selling this as the way humankind ought to be when we’re not being who we are. Yes, there are people with severe problems who need adjusting but there are also a lot of people who are perfectly fine the way they are, unless of course, they compare reality with what is shown on television and the Internet.
There’s a commercial on television now, and I can’t remember what the product is they’re selling, but it shows a pretty blonde in a bikini, and the blonde is as thin as we’ve come to be told is perfect, but she is also not implanted with 99DD breasts. Oddly, the woman is actually a little on the flat side. I’m not sure whose idea it was to sneak a realistic looking top part of a woman into a commercial that is selling anything but cosmetic surgery but I think it’s a good thing. Had she only weighed in at over one hundred pounds I would have really had something to talk about.
Unless you happen to have the same body type and chemistry as the people who look good for a living then you aren’t very likely to look very much like those people. In point of fact, they look no more like who is shown in television as you do in the beginning but computer graphics and a few thousand dollars worth of make-up and great lighting can make Drew Carey look like Miley Cyrus. The world of the super model and the six pack abdomen man is a world of make believe where an individual has all the time in the world to look good and nothing to do all day but get that way.
But let’s get back to how our minds work and why it isn’t a good thing.
Once we get the people at the far end of the spectrum dosed then those close to the edge need help and that means the people who were not close to the edge at all are now closer to the edge than they were, and oh why the hell not just put the stuff in our water supply and be done with it? But why? Why should we allow doctors to prescribe to people drugs meant to help people with problems when the doctors ought to be addressing physical issues not mental health issues? Could it be that by allowing this there is an almost infinite amount of money to be made here?
The same could be asked as to why a doctor would perform surgery on a perfectly healthy woman just to increase the size of her breasts. The breasts themselves are not really bigger but they certainly look bigger, don’t they? They won’t produce more milk or do anything breasts are supposed to do better, but they address the issue of vanity, and isn’t that a lot like selling a pill to a healthy person just because they do not fit perfectly into the round hole we’ve been trained to think is normal? We have already established that we’re all supposed to be the same shape and size, and now we’re all supposed to take the same drugs so we can be Barbie and Ken with a frozen smile and a limp psyche. Oh, and don’t worry about the limp thing; there’s a pill of that, too!
So what’s the problem here? We need to lower our level of anxiety? Go get a stray dog out of the shelter and spend about thirty minutes each day trying to wear him out by wrestling with him. As long as you didn’t pick out a foo-foo dog and got a real one, you’re going to feel better immediately. Go to the Y and take a Yoga class, or get down on the floor and try it yourself. Unplug from your computer and go outside, pick up a leaf and realize as beautiful as it is, the thing is dead. There is beauty and worth even in the end, and there is no need is getting attached.
Here’s something your doctor won’t tell you; Scotch. I highly recommend you go out and get a bottle of single malt, twelve year old Scotch, and find someone to sit and drink with until you’re both legally drunk, or even legally dead. Man, screw it. If you’re not out trying to run your first 5k or walking into a room full of strangers and showing them just how out of shape you’re in then grab a bottle and kill some brain cells. Excess is to be avoided most of the time, but every once in a while, do something that isn’t good for you, and enjoy every second of it.
Do this one Saturday afternoon, oh screw it, do this one Tuesday night; go see a movie and don’t check the times or what’s playing. Walk up and buy a ticket to whatever movie is playing next, regardless of what it is. Don’t worry about it. Just go in, sit down, and know that the Universe works this way most of the time, and you’re just playing along.
I still cannot sleep at night. I never will, I suspect. But the idea of getting doped up to be able to handle being alive is repugnant to me. I rather fight my way through the day, live with the nightmares, and live my life the way that I am. This may not work for you. It isn’t working real well for me, but this is who I am, and what I am, and I am.
Oh, and you should write.