Kires (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} kires) wrote,@ 2002-11-08 05:28:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I'll probably just flip a fucking coin.
A decision is called for, but the situation is rife with consequence and contradiction. Perfect! As it should be. I'd hate to be bored, or have some important choice be easy. That would take all the fun right out of it!
But anyway, onward to the point.
I've been taking Dexedrine for about 8 or nine years now. So far, it's held my head together for the most part, but lately, it's lost it's "oomph". My short term memory and attention to matters practical and repetitive is waning quickly, even with a "slightly" increased dosage. I think I've developed a pretty hard-core tolerance to it and stimulants in general. The most obvious clue came tonight, while I was flopping around like an idiot on Respect's dance floor. It was nearly closing time, and I yawned. For most people, there would be nothing odd in that. After all, being a wee bit piqued at 3 AM is socially acceptable and all. What lent significance and dire portent to this oxegen-gathering reflex was the fact that about 3 hours prior, I'd taken a day's worth of Dexedrine, a $75 kiss from tina, and washed them down with a bottle of Bawls, the "adult" version of Jolt cola. That belly-burner should have sent me ricocheting off the walls like some ill-conceived cartoon character, but there I was, in the customary stretch of one all set for a nap.
In police work, they call that a clue.
I'd be cooler to report that the message came as some great flash of insight, or in some hallucinated ultimatum from on high, but nothing so interesting happened. I just yawned, and realized that I was a trifle sleepy. A few seconds later I put 2 and 2 together, and came up with what I hope is 4, that it's time to lay off the speed. Seems simple and straightforward, don't it? Unfortunatley, there's the addiction factor to consider. Taking the same class 2 drug for just shy of a decade is bound to get a good jones going. Next, there's this whole depression thing to consider. Could that have had a hand in subduing the speed's effect? Also, is the midst of a depression really the best time to kick a habit like that? Lastly, there's my job to think of. It's very detail oriented, and I'm not. My brain goes, "Does it work now? Good. Then it's done. Next!" Unfortunately, there's a whole slew of nits to be picked, like remembering the thousand and one SOPs to be followed. Say the caller's name twice. Thank them for calling. Don't make that "Thank you" sound like "Choke on a fat cock and die". Tell them the truth, but don't make the company look bad. (catch-22, anyone?) Remember which company you're working for on that call, etcetera, etcetera, et nauseam. While I don't need the uppers for the actual resolution of the issues (read: Fucking problems), I'm afraid that I'm none too good at the minutiae unless I'm backed by a couple orange triangles. When I started this gig 3 years ago, this was not a big deal, but times have changed. Then, it mattered that you got the job done, and it works now. Now, it maters that you get the job done by the "proper" means, and fuck the end result. Care to guess which one of those will get really fucking hard if resign my post as one of Dexie's Midnight Runners? I'll give you a hint: it's the one my corporate masters care the most about. But on the another hand, perhaps the dexies are responsible, at least in part, for this depression, which arrived in the same parcel as this tolerance to chemicals invigorating. Hmmmm. So do I kick the speed and risk the ire of my corporate daddies? Or do I wait until this depression passes, to ensure that I've got the mental clarity to make such a call? But if this depression is the culmination of years of daily amping, will it pass without stopping the flow of pep pills? Or will it worsen as I go? Ignoring depression is all well and good when it's just in motivation you're working on a deficit. But depression also takes a toll on the higher cognitive functions. You know, the ones that come in really handy for shite like this? Ha! As it should be.
Hmmmmmm. Decisions, decisions. And here I am without my magic 8-ball! Not the good boy scout today, am I? Tsk tsk. Oh well, I'm nearly asleep in my chair, so I'm off to the land of nod. Maybe this issue will be clearer seen when slumber's fog has lifted. Yeah, right.
A decision is called for, but the situation is rife with consequence and contradiction. Perfect! As it should be. I'd hate to be bored, or have some important choice be easy. That would take all the fun right out of it!
But anyway, onward to the point.
I've been taking Dexedrine for about 8 or nine years now. So far, it's held my head together for the most part, but lately, it's lost it's "oomph". My short term memory and attention to matters practical and repetitive is waning quickly, even with a "slightly" increased dosage. I think I've developed a pretty hard-core tolerance to it and stimulants in general. The most obvious clue came tonight, while I was flopping around like an idiot on Respect's dance floor. It was nearly closing time, and I yawned. For most people, there would be nothing odd in that. After all, being a wee bit piqued at 3 AM is socially acceptable and all. What lent significance and dire portent to this oxegen-gathering reflex was the fact that about 3 hours prior, I'd taken a day's worth of Dexedrine, a $75 kiss from tina, and washed them down with a bottle of Bawls, the "adult" version of Jolt cola. That belly-burner should have sent me ricocheting off the walls like some ill-conceived cartoon character, but there I was, in the customary stretch of one all set for a nap.
In police work, they call that a clue.
I'd be cooler to report that the message came as some great flash of insight, or in some hallucinated ultimatum from on high, but nothing so interesting happened. I just yawned, and realized that I was a trifle sleepy. A few seconds later I put 2 and 2 together, and came up with what I hope is 4, that it's time to lay off the speed. Seems simple and straightforward, don't it? Unfortunatley, there's the addiction factor to consider. Taking the same class 2 drug for just shy of a decade is bound to get a good jones going. Next, there's this whole depression thing to consider. Could that have had a hand in subduing the speed's effect? Also, is the midst of a depression really the best time to kick a habit like that? Lastly, there's my job to think of. It's very detail oriented, and I'm not. My brain goes, "Does it work now? Good. Then it's done. Next!" Unfortunately, there's a whole slew of nits to be picked, like remembering the thousand and one SOPs to be followed. Say the caller's name twice. Thank them for calling. Don't make that "Thank you" sound like "Choke on a fat cock and die". Tell them the truth, but don't make the company look bad. (catch-22, anyone?) Remember which company you're working for on that call, etcetera, etcetera, et nauseam. While I don't need the uppers for the actual resolution of the issues (read: Fucking problems), I'm afraid that I'm none too good at the minutiae unless I'm backed by a couple orange triangles. When I started this gig 3 years ago, this was not a big deal, but times have changed. Then, it mattered that you got the job done, and it works now. Now, it maters that you get the job done by the "proper" means, and fuck the end result. Care to guess which one of those will get really fucking hard if resign my post as one of Dexie's Midnight Runners? I'll give you a hint: it's the one my corporate masters care the most about. But on the another hand, perhaps the dexies are responsible, at least in part, for this depression, which arrived in the same parcel as this tolerance to chemicals invigorating. Hmmmm. So do I kick the speed and risk the ire of my corporate daddies? Or do I wait until this depression passes, to ensure that I've got the mental clarity to make such a call? But if this depression is the culmination of years of daily amping, will it pass without stopping the flow of pep pills? Or will it worsen as I go? Ignoring depression is all well and good when it's just in motivation you're working on a deficit. But depression also takes a toll on the higher cognitive functions. You know, the ones that come in really handy for shite like this? Ha! As it should be.
Hmmmmmm. Decisions, decisions. And here I am without my magic 8-ball! Not the good boy scout today, am I? Tsk tsk. Oh well, I'm nearly asleep in my chair, so I'm off to the land of nod. Maybe this issue will be clearer seen when slumber's fog has lifted. Yeah, right.