Medicated Artist: Introduction

Well, here goes….

I’m like when you walk in mud and your foot sinks down. Your foot makes a depression. That’s how I feel most of the time. Occasionally the ground will puff back up, or the depression will fill in due to other factors like a gully washer that moves the mud around, or maybe a dust storm to blow everything out of wack.

Doesn’t happen often though. Mostly that mud hole hangs and hangs and hangs around.

Anyway, that’s how my normal feels (feeling depressed). I’ve been living like that for, oh, like for as long as I can remember, which isn’t that long. 18 or 20 years, maybe? I’m not sure. Anyway, I’ve dealt with it. I’ve lived with it. It’s sort of who I am. It feels like who I am. (Is it who I am?)

And I’ve used different tools that I’ve come up with on my own to cope. Some things that I’ve shared and others that I don’t. Things like writing and music and performing, etc etc etc.

But for the past 2 years, or 3 years, or 4, or 5, or 13 years it just seems harder and harder to keep up with those things. Or, they don’t work as well. Or, I just quit them and move to on to find something else. And then it sort of gnaws at me because maybe I really did enjoy those things that I quit. Maybe I was actually good at them. Maybe they were actually good for me. Maybe they weren’t just tools that I used. Weren’t just STOP GAPS to make the mud fill back in (so to speak).

One of those things is music. Writing and performing and playing and talking about it. Being around it. I used it. And I’ve felt for the past few years like I used it up. (Is that possible when I’ve only been performing for like 5 or 6 years?) So I have a strange relationship with this thing. I love it and hate it. I have to do it and want nothing to do with it. It drives me forward and it makes my head hurt.

So there’s that.

And there’s the part where being depressed all the time just wrecks havoc on all the parts of your life. You fall to pieces. You put them together. Then there’s an earthquake. Everything is a mess. Then it’s okay again. It’s confusing and frustrating. It’s strange that it feels normal to me even though I know that it’s not normal. (It’s not, right?)

Anyway. I’m being honest about it. About how I feel every day. I’m being open and not very cautious, which is something that I NEVER DO. And, so I’ll be honest in saying that I’m kind of getting tired of feeling this way all the time.

So, I figured it was time to try something new and get ALL DRUGGED UP. (NOTE: This isn’t to say that I’m just hitting the pills from the get go. Therapy has worked wonders for me and will continue to do so, okay?)

And I’m scared about taking medication. I’ve never taken more than an aspirin to fix a headache and I’m a little worried that the head drugs from BIG PHARMA will just make me into some sort of zombie. Like, I’ll never write a song ever again (not that I’m writing any new songs or even picking up any instrument at all right now, or for the past 6 months).

Or, I won’t feel like myself. I’ll just become someone new. (Presto! Smiling, Happy, Good-Time-Having Andrew is here!) Now, I’m all for being in a constant state of becoming. But, I mean, taking pills and, sort of like, completely just going out of focus. Feeling fine, but everything is blurry. I’ve been told that is not how these drugs work. I DON’T BELIEVE IT.

But, for all my fears I’m just gonna go ahead and see if it works. Can’t hurt, right? And I’m going to sort of document how it feels here on Music Vomit in long-winded and over-the-top posts like this one and probably also in shorter, more concise moments over on Twitter at @MusicVomit.

I guess I’m writing about it, not only to work through my own fears by writing them out, and not only to document how it actually feels mentally, physically, and emotionally, but also it’s something I can use to just start writing (creatively or otherwise) again. I used to write 5,000 words a day. Now, I’m lucky if I write a note to pick up dish soap at the store.

One thing I’m going to try and not do is get up on a SOAPBOX about depression and mental illness. I don’t know enough about either (other than living with depression)┬áto talk about them in an intelligent (or stupid) way. So, I’m just going to stick to how the DRUGS are effecting my creativity with an occasional glimpse into how they’re effecting the other parts of my life and only seldom will get all HIGH AND MIGHTY about the ways in which BIG PHARMA has us all BY THE BALLS.

That’s what this whole Medicated Artist thing will be about. I realize what I’ve written is all kind of vague, but I’ll get into more specifics in upcoming posts. Things like: SIDE EFFECTS, what and how I’m working on and how it’s different or the same, if I gain a THOUSAND POUNDS. Stuff like that. Hopefully it’ll be somewhat entertaining. Hopefully it won’t be PAINFUL. (This is what I’m worried about.)

So, here goes….

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