for the second night in a row. cut a Seroquel in half and took it. that ought to do it.

y’know, i used to think my initial skepticism about medications was born of my recreational drug use — i already knew that drugs didn’t change the world and just because it was my therapist trying to convince me otherwise didn’t mean i trusted her more.

since then, of course, i’ve become a devoted anti-depressant/mood leveler/SSRI/anti-psychotic fan. maybe even an addict.

are you an addict if you truly can’t live without them? if everyone says it’s ok to be addicted to them? if the medical establishment doesn’t use the term “addiction” to describe the feeling of not wanting to be too far from any of them at any time?

are you an addict if you judiciously weigh out your options when considering your day? ( take two now, one at night…hmmm…)

are you an addict if you don’t “abuse” them?

i don’t have a clue. i do know i’m getting sleepy. i do know that 50 mg of Seroquel is killing the fear that a couple of sleepless nights might be the precursor to a manic cycle.

i do know how much there is to fear. i keep my drugs dry. i keep them close.