Ox-bow
Hail,
Long time no post, and it may possibly be that way for a while.
Don't know. The mood's not one hundred percent. And while that doesn't mean I'll be grabbing my hanky and rushing off into a corner just yet, it does mean that my writing (and reading) may be less frequent than hoped. So sorry about that.
The thing is, some of what I'm feeling is not endogenous depression. I feel tired, for example, but I am working close on a fifty hour week, in two jobs, one of which is new and bloody challenging and the other of which is challenging in a different kind of way. Plus I am studying for the primary exam in September, which is taking up a fair swathe of my spare time.
The study is also a bit anxiogenic - everytime I sit down to study this little voice starts murmuring in my head about how I'm never going to be any good at this. It does go after a while, because studying is calming in a way. But there is the issue of why I am putting myself through this when others, perhaps wiser than myself, have left all that behind them.
Lest anyone be concerned, when I said "a little voice murmuring" I was speaking metaphorically. I remember hearing a cricket commentator once talking about the batting performance of
Anyhow. Luckily the medications I am on at the moment are the less nasty kind. I once came up with this measure called the FI or Futility Index of a medication. The Futility Index is a measure of how much overlap there was between the side effects of a medication and the symptoms of the disease it was meant to treat. Antidepressants (that make you fat and sexless) being prescribed for depression (which makes you fat and sexless) - that kind of thing. The tricyclics have a fairly high FI - both the medication and the condition they are prescribed to treat make it easy to kill yourself, for example.
Anyhow. A link to a truly hideous story on Salon - and a thought-provoking albeit preachy and poorly thought out one on Slate.
More stuff, and hopefully less whiney, in a few days.
Thanks for listening,
John
PS - Ox-bows, by the way, are those left-behind pools of water that are formed when a river gets too slow and meandering to carry all its water to the sea.
posted by Bronze John at 8:01 PM
5 Comments:
Matthew Hayden is alight.
Ricky is just smouldering.
Glenn is sputtering out.
As another doc who uses the "manic defence"...despite being not bipolar...please take it easy.
The tortoise always beats the hare.
Best wishes
Dork
My two favourite football comments on the weekend?
"It's great to see Mal Michael back in the Essendon colours." and
"Isn't it great to see Acker (Jason Akermanis) back in the Bulldogs jumper?"
Funny thing both players made their debuts for their new sides on the weekend, so technically it's the first time they've worn those jumpers.
Bloody twits.
We gotta get drunk again very soon.
BJ: That Salon article is horrific. As someone who has ADHD, I worry a lot about kids receiving this diagnosis. As a child, hyperactivity is rather the fun is pretty much any game, and the stuff that makes you practice the wheelie or the lutz jump 37 million times until you get it right. It worries me when seven year olds receive the diagnosis. How could a four year old have this diagnosis. And how could the diagnosis have been made when she was two? Jaysus fucking christ on a crutch or some such thing.
Hope the FI stays low.
Re: The Slate article. Now what was that five minute clip of in Saturday Night Live that made people more willing to kill? That's what I want to know.
Sorry for the little voice, the depression and the rest. Keep the FI low if you can. I do wish I knew what you are taking...but is that too personal?
Dear Dr Dork,
Damn interesting post last time, and a damn interesting set of links. Especially the alcoholic nurse one.
Thanks for compiling them. And anyone who hasn't read the post, go and do so.
John
Post a Comment
<< Home