"I might wear black for four years straight."

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you’re not still taking that, are you?

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I don’t remember much from the year I was nineteen. But I know that I tried a lot of drugs that didn’t work. When this happens, they start trying you on the new and untested drugs. They put me on one called Remeron. You have probably never heard of Remeron. They almost never prescribe it anymore, mainly because it puts you into a stupor and makes you literally insanely hungry.

When I reported these horrific side effects, nobody believed me. The general response I got was a coded version of “Uh-huh, we all know you’re fat and lazy,” though my doctor kindly prescribed me fen-phen to help with my weight issues. Eight months or so later he said, “Uh, you’re not still taking that, are you?”

One of the hardest things about being a young person with mental illness is that nobody believes you about a goddamn thing. (Or so it felt — I was probably mewling constantly about trifling self-absorbed crap, so it is to be expected that people would learn to tune me out.)

Incredibly, the Remeron did help me stabilize. Or maybe being fat and tired just numbed me out for a while. At any rate, I was to stay on that drug for another seven years.


Written by phineas

June 4, 2010 at 8:37 pm

you know which fifteen i mean.

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I remember sometimes feeling out of control around sweet foods as a kid, but I didn’t learn to abuse food in earnest until my first year away at college. Relatively late, for most people, but I’m a quick study.

The year was 1995. I was discovering a new pleasure: surfing the Internet in a darkened dorm room, late into the night. I somehow happened upon the knowledge that constant snacking increased the pleasure of this activity. My snacks of choice were banana chips and grape soda from the vending machines in dormitory basement. (Oh, college dormitory vending machines! Those growling but wordless witnesses to so many an eighteen-year-old woman’s unraveling.)

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Written by phineas

June 4, 2010 at 12:41 am

Posted in talkin bout my generation

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