July...is it really already July?...23rd.

What'm I doing right now?

Sitting here, listening to Massive Attack, and typing away, trying to get rid of the nausea that took hold of me while I was out eating at our noodle house in downtown Palo Alto. Took my medication on an empty stomach this morning, which was a brilliant plan. I wasted an entire plate of delicious vegan pad thai.

A trivial experience of nausea at a noodle house managed to dredge up pretty bad memories of worse times, when I rarely managed to get myself out of bed to get to lectures. When tendrils of darkness used to grab hold of my ankles and drag me down into a well I thought I'd never get out of. When I was all "dark and twisty" inside and barely knew how to hold a conversation because my mind moved faster than my mouth.

When I was a mess.

Of course there's a miraculous recovery story to go along with it. But it involved a trade-off I'm still questioning. In order to get rid of my depression, I had to go on medication. And this medication, while saving my life, destroyed my creative drive because of the receptor blockers it uses to control depression.

So today, while I sat staring at my pad thai, I wondered, "Is this really worth it? All the nausea, the emptiness when I can't write, the tremors and muscle cramps, the weakness and fainting spells?"

I paused and poked at the noodles, which were slimy and pale, feeling a little sorry for myself.

And then the peanut smell got a good grip on my nose and I had to excuse myself to go sit over the toilet in the bathroom.

Karma hates self-pity.

The End

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