Pep boys pills, Beverly sills...oh boy. Oh boy. Uh-oh. Uh-oh.

When last we spoke, I was rambling about being depressed about my diagnosis of being depressed. After the neuro-psych diagnosed me as *really* depressed, my therapist suggested I try a mood stabilizer. At first I was optimistic, and then I was angry, then confused, then sleepy, then all the other dwarves and finally, after another 30 seconds, I figured it may be a good idea.

“I have a great mood stabilizer that I have many patients on,” she said. “It’s cheap and it has no side effects. Well, except for the possible deadly skin rash.”

But who’s ever said I’m not a risk taker? I decided to give it a try.

Because of this possible deadly skin rash, they start you out real slow, with 2 weeks at 12.5 mg, then two weeks at 25mg, then two weeks at 50mg, etc etc. After 3 days, I noticed that my chest felt like I had slept with 2 tons of something really heavy on it. I calmly called my therapist, on the off-chance that this was a bad sign. She called back and said that it sounded like it was affecting my heart in a bad way and that yes, it was most likely a really bad sign. She suggested that I stop taking it to see if the chest pain went away.

So now I am for all intents and purposes unmedicated and that is making me even more depressed and anxious. I’ve left 3 messages for her to call me back and get me something STAT. I’m freaking out enough that I’m using my vicodin as my anxiety drug. Not cool.

I am just about ready to demand Xanax by name. work is stressful enough that I don’t have time to ramp up to something. I need drugs. I need them NOW.