babblebabblebabblebabble.....nice flowers and sharp teeth.

I recently went to the doctor a couple of months ago for a physical exam because I hadn't had one in a while. I've always thought that I was in ok shape except for the last couple of years being at my new career and not being as physically mobile as I used to. In doing so, I knew I was a bit over weight. Dang, I payed a copay to have the doc to tell me what I already knew. Well, that's besides the actual point. I was a new patient so I had to fill out the entry questionaire and sign all the necessary papers. You know....."do you smoke?", "do you have heart diseases in your family history?", and "are you depressed?"....etc. I answered all of them as I felt they were true for my 37 year 100,000 mile check up. I said "yes" to depressed. Then I thought about it......yeah, I feel sad sometimes. Especially about stuff that happens back at home on the rez like my still recovering brother, long-lost daughter, high fuel prices, my absence of being close to home, and not knowing about city life. I guess to a physician this has an entirely different meaning. I don't think I'm that fucked up! Geez, I'm not still here because I hate the taste of gun metal. I like my life. Despite having a mortage, longer belt size, more grey hairs, and longing to wet a line at Morgan Lake, I'm having a good time and hopefully live long enough to see my great great grand kids.

Well, I said I was depressed a bit one time at an appointment. She said she would prescribe me a drug that will calm me down and be a little more level headed when I felt down and at the end of my rope. Ok, I said. Shouldn't have said that but I did. Well this drug is one that Ozzy's on. Maybe it'll make me a rock star! Hoping to feel better, nothing changed....so up went the dose after a month of treatment........................................................................................ I was a a complete mess. I felt like Ozzy. Jittery, spaced out, feeling disconnected, spazzy, feeling like I needed to be somewhere, thinking, "did I leave the clothes iron on?", sleepy, and sometimes pissy............................................................................................. and this shit is prescribed for depressed people?

I didn't realize that I had to dose down to come off of this shit too. So, I'm off of it now. Now I know I didn't need it because I feel just fine, except for one thing. When I dream, it's like a whole movie playing in my head like I was the playing the main role. Some are good, some aren't. Most feel too real. I dream like I TIVO'd it because when I become awake sometimes....it resumes where I left off when I go back to sleep. Freaky to me, really. I think that my prescription dislodged something in my brain.

Or am I really going nuts?



Oh yeah, GO STEELERS!!! GO SCOUTS!!!