>>7790
The only "me" there is, is the chemicals in my brain. Taking muh HAPPY PILLZ(tm) to replace them with different chemicals amounts to a form of suicide. That is alarming. It alarmed me further to hear a shrink last year say "Your brain? Oh, no, it doesn't affect your brain. It just affects your mood!" That was when I decided I could no longer take him seriously.
Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I'm the crazy one. But, see, back before it was so commonplace, I observed a couple of women have epic meltdowns when told their HAPPY PILLZ(tm) prescription refills were delayed. This was only slightly more disturbing than the bug-eyed SSRI stares they displayed when they were on the stuff. Now, of course, they tell us half the population is gobbling that shit up. "It makes ya feel better! Try it, it's good!" I have heard the same sales pitch for booze, weed, cocaine, electroshock therapy, and prefrontal lobotomies. No thanks. I don't want any of that shit, and, just between us, I don't want to be around people who get their coping skills from a pill bottle, either. You may think of it as leaving more for you, if you like.
None of the people trying to get me to consoom any of that stuff ever listened for three seconds when I said "I am depressed because my mom died last month and I just got laid off, I just went blind in one eye, I have medical bills coming in that I can't pay, my life is generally more shitty than usual right now, and if you are acting out of a genuine desire to help me, can you help me take some concrete steps to fix my life?" Nope. It's PILLZ PILLZ PILLZ PILLZ. It's muh weed. It's muh booze. It's muh oxy and muh percs and muh robo and muh Xanax and muh meth and muh animal tranquilizers, and it's all exactly the same thing, with minor distinctions in degree but no differences at all in kind. I have never seen anything good come from anybody taking up any of those habits, ever.
So, thank you, but no. I will find my way in the world without it. I apologize for disappointing everyone by being insufficiently hot-looking to pull off aesthetically pleasing goth style melancholy, but I am not going to scoop out my own brain with an ice cream scoop, toss it in the nearest dumpster, and replace it with a bucket of Prozac pills.