“But actually, my drug addiction thing, I was so stubborn.” ~ Sir Elton John

“For the first time in history, a sizable and growing number of U.S. combat troops are taking daily doses of antidepressants to calm nerves strained by….” ~ Military.com

~~Note to the reader: This is MY PERSONAL Journey, My Opinion, My Caveat, My Perception. If you don’t like it, use your free Cheeto eating hand to touch that robotic control switch and get to a different damn channel and get off my blog F-A-S-T!

We live in a medicated society,

but it’s ok, because everyone else is

medicated too…

la di da di da

I’m a content drug user going to the gym, Peet’s and Whole Foods, sipping my xangiao-lao-fao-something or another yao yao tea latte while taking my clients through a series of TRX exercises.

I buy organic because I don’t want to be privy to the toxins the growers are putting in the soil in which my food is grown. Toxicity equates to weakness and toxic pesticides weaken the structure of the fruit and vegetables I’m eating.

I watch what we eat. I eat what I watch. I try to leave dairy on the table, and cheat once in a while with that fried saturated Twinkie desert only to wake up every single damn day and on auto-pilot with the nagging thought ’don’t forget your pill’ as I ingest a highly toxic compound that makes my life worth living.

Follow me down the rabbit hole

I too marched to the pharmaceutical company drum, “We can make it better if you take this pill… your life will be worth living.” I found myself repeating their mantra so scared shitless out of my mind that if I didn’t take my pill my pathetic homeless life as I knew it wasn’t going to be worth living.

As if I had so much to look forward to living in a car with two dogs and no money. For pathetic souls like myself – the addicts Pfizer created – they would lend a hand and ‘give’ me my pills gratis. How neighborly.

Kudos to Pfizer for creating another addict. Well, at least I buy organic.

Negativity pervades the very structure of daily life….

Thanks to the Pfizer Pimp Daddy Gods for my pills!

We are consistently bombarded with negativity. Every other word out of 99% of the population’s mouth is negative.

The news, the pundits, the experts, the celebrities and the like, all serenade us with the plight of the current terrible situation in every corner of the earth as they sport their well coiffed and manicured bodies spewing forth the banal vomit they have licked up from someone else’s wire. That’s a nice visual.

Or just stand in line at Whole Foods – the organic, free-range, no toxic substance food store – and listen to the well coiffed banal talking heads around you and you’ll hear them lament about what they had to ‘go through’ today.

It’s a plight, a travesty, a c-o-n spiracy. All of us are desperate for an answer.

But, that pill I took that morning has helped me find peace of mind knowing that I can walk through my day on auto-pilot. Not to mention, I can feel like I belong because I’m shopping at Whole Foods – where the organic people go.*

*Don’t ask me how I afforded Whole Foods as a homeless person, some things just don’t make sense and that’s one of them. When you’re homeless you find ways to do things that make you feel comfortable and belong in this society.

I walk around half-sedated and on auto-pilot only to have nervous breakdowns about some stupid ass comment or some sad state of affairs. Like that I’m homeless, have no money, have no future and I’m over 40.

I start screaming at myself and hate to look in the mirror because I don’t want to see the person who is such a failure a loser an unattractive ugly fat girl. I blame my mom and everyone else and then come back to the mirror image of who I am; and as all addicts, I cough up in my semi-lucid state of mania “I hate myself.”

It’s no wonder people want to medicate – it’s enough to get out of bed and not be bombarded by the negative ‘vibes’, the caustic comments, the nasty rants, the less than happy campers surrounding us…It’s far worse when you hate yourself.

These are my thoughts as I gingerly walk down the street with my two dogs…

I think about the e-mail I received from some woman who unsubscribed from my e-mail blasts noting that she is being told by me to invest in herself and that she needs to watch her money. Hence her unsubscription.

Her e-mail has since been deleted because her stupidity is her downfall and her lack of understanding that SHE IS HER BUSINESS obviously never pervaded her thought process.

I am not here to give her a F.R.E.E. education because she subscribed to a fucking e-mail list. Get off my e-mail list lady, I don’t want your ENTITLEMENT attitude to pervade my system. Seriously. It’s your business you don’t want to invest in yourself, that’s your damn problem.

You blood sucking, lazy-ass, cheeto-eating, free-loading tick of a human being with your hand out waiting for someone else to pick up your mess.

”Effexor XR isn’t an addictive drug; you can go off it whenever you want.” ~ my doctor in 2007

Withdrawal from being an addict even though according to Pfizer

I’m officially not an “addict”…

I watch my step as I descend from said curb to the street – it’s a big step for me because my equilibrium has decided to take hiatus and Vertigo has now set in as my balance. My roller coaster ride hasn’t ended since this began last Wednesday the 7th of December.

My last ‘official’ Effexor XR pill was Tuesday December 6th @ approximately 8:30am. It’s been almost a week without my pill. It’s been almost a week of severe side effects and WITHDRAWAL like that of an addict.

But, I’m not an addict.

According to the drug maker, Pfizer, Effexor XR is not addictive. Really Pfizer, have you tried to get off this shit?

Have you woken up to frightening brain zaps where your head literally feels like it’s been electrocuted only to vomit uncontrollably on yourself?
When you feel so ashamed because you can’t sleep one night without vommitting on your sheets, your bed, yourself.
I feel like Linda Blair looks, head spinning, vomit spewing forth, room spinning, voices and low groans coming from the depth of my diaphragm only to be ‘jolted’ again by a severe brain zap that has everything to do with the withdrawal of a drug that I’m NOT ADDICTED TO. Are you fucking kidding me?
The nausea, dizziness, dry mouth, fits of uncontrollable crying, gasping for air because I can’t get it together enough to walk into a grocery store without wanting to cry.
How about the consistent feeling of abandonement, the scared and frightened feeling of waking up alone, lonely, unable to comprehend why anyone would want to talk to me let alone ask you a question like, “Hey how are you doing?”
Or that everyone is suspect. The paranoia at its’ all time high having to deal with the feelings of being ‘good enough’ or feeling attractive or wanted. Why the hell would you want to know how I’m doing anyway?

If you’re over 40 years old, single, never been married, have no family, and are friendless within the scope of having anyone around you that wants to deal with you, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

If you aren’t then this doesn’t apply to you and you’re probably on the wrong page – go watch Fox News and Rush Limbaugh you’re not ready for this reality show.

Brain Zaps; the withdrawal symptoms of Effexor XR

Today I’m on the phone with my partner in crime and BFF. She’s also my invest in your business partner, my part-time shrink, and my sounding board on everything and anything related to network marketing and our lives as we’ve blithely danced the network marketing mambo to come to the arena we are now.

We exchange stories about our “why” we were attracted to network marketing in the first place and come to some parallel realizations.

Having been through a very similar situation as myself, she describes her wanting to connect. Being alone and lonely is a battle no one wants to fight; the loss is beyond sustainable and when you make it out – if you make it out of that battle, you’re scathed, exhausted and beaten down.

We both agree that within network marketing we have somewhat filled a gap we each had individually to ‘connect’ to other like minded people who resonated with us to create and achieve a better life.

We wanted to be away from the 99.99% of the people out there who just don’t believe in themselves or anything other than Rush Limbaugh, Dick Cheney and Dr. Phil-I-Know-All. Don’t get me started on the political scene, I’m still a recovering addict.

I give her some information on the brain zaps I’m experiencing constantly and how I’m surprised and even a bit proud of myself for my continued lucidity. I am capable of maintaining a conversation without regurgitating some nonsensical rant all over her and tethering her to my rabbit hole of consciousness or lack thereof.

Note to self: Don’t throw up on BFF

Brain zaps a.k.a., withdrawal symptoms from Effexor, are like being tortured with whiplash and dizzy spells after you’ve had way too much to drink and are near alcohol poisoning. I constantly feel like I’m recovering from a really terrible hangover which leads me to believe I will not be drinking anytime soon.

These brain zaps are beyond anything I’ve ever experienced and I get them constantly, they pervade thoughts, infiltrate your nervous system, and debilitate your being.

You can’t concentrate and if you try, you’ll be spending a good portion of your waking moments wondering what the hell you’re concentrating on. But Pfizer says I’m not addicted. Yeah right!

For a personal trainer and triathlete this is a big blow to my ego and to my physical and sensory perception. I literally have to watch where I’m going to because I will trip and fall. So, instead of looking down and then back up, I carry a flashlight with me if I have to go outside at night because it helps me to focus on where I’m going without looking down to see if I’m going to step on something and fall. I find the flashlight an apropos analogy to every day life – albeit, I’d like to be able to walk without one.

No, I’m not an addict, but I sure as hell feel like one.

What Is Effexor?

Effexor XR is an anti-depressant anti-anxiety drug. It creates more seratonin in your system. Basically, it makes you happy when you’re not, and it is supposed to help you ‘deal’ with life. It’s a fake drug based on a fake society of automatons.

This is going to sound paranoid, but here’s why I believe Effexor is on the market and widely distributed to us when we can’t deal with our lives.

It is good for those who want to take control over your mind and make you believe that what you’re feeling is not what you’re really feeling and you’ glide through your days on auto-pilot in quiet desperation not getting upset, not getting pissed off, basically not feeling your life. I can tell you first hand, this is exactly what this drug does to people because I’m one of them.

It reminds me of The Stepford Wives. A medicated society based on a government who’s biggest lobbyists are the drug companies who want to be able to ‘control’ the mindset of said society so that when they shove some big ass freak like Rush Limbaugh down their throat the society won’t throw up all over them and will inevitably bless said government for being so kind as to bring such a pariah to us who will help us see the light with their narcissistic , white supremacy views thereby voting for the next deliberate war we have against any country who won’t give us their natural reserves such as oil and gold.

and why did I start taking it…..

Vegas, the bane of our society as a whole

Long story short is that I started on this drug in 2007. Working in the casino as a cocktail waitress I would leave work and get anxiety attacks about having to go back to work. Knowing I couldn’t live without money I had to force myself to go to work. I hated being in the smoke, the sickness, the disease, the ill-will, the constant entitlement attitude, the fat, the lazy, the seekers, the losers, and the disgusting arena that the casino is and always will represent to me.

I used to leave work and see the same person 12 hours later when I’d come back to work sitting in the same chair giving their ATM card to the manager of the casino to get them cash so they didn’t have to leave the machine because they were ‘on a roll’ and could ‘feel it’ it’s going to happen soon.

As they would defecate on themselves and be put in handcuffs and taken out of the casino they would scream and cry throwing fits, kicking the security guards as shit flew all around them, the stench far worse than a sewer.

I would watch people lose money they didn’t have. I saw men haul off and beat the living shit out of the women they were fighting with and vice/versa. There were women who would pick up bar stools and beat down the man they were with if they didn’t give them money to gamble. 9 times out of 10 those were hookers. I served men who would throw their drinks at me if they were losing or they’d belittle me that I didn’t put enough alcohol in their drink and call me a stingy bitch.

Well, at least they got half of that right!

Most nights I felt humiliated and no better than a hooker walking around with a tray calling out ‘cocktails? cocktails?’

I would say I had clothes on, but I couldn’t actually call that costume ‘clothing’ it was more like a spandex loin cloth.

Many times there would be fights where people would literally beat each other so badly they would end up in the intensive care units of the hospital. I’ve seen beer bottles smashed over heads and then the same bottle taken to the face of an unsuspecting dealer cutting their nose off their face.

I’ve seen people pissing on the feet of the dealers because they didn’t want to go to the bathroom and leave the table.

I’ve seen hookers get beaten by pimps, pimps get arrested by police.

And the lonely men looking for a one night stand who have had everything stolen from them because they believed some girl they met in the elevator really ‘liked’ them and they gave them the key to their room only to come back to an empty room with absolutely nothing left.

It was only a matter of time before I either became one of these people or was put in an insane asylum because I had to deal with them. Effexor was the answer.

Addiction 101 Vegas Style

I would venture to say that everyone who works in Vegas is addicted to a prescription drug – now, that seems a bit harsh, but in reality it’s true.

I was involved with a gambling addict who was quite well versed in prescription drugs and gambling for that matter.

People move to Vegas for five reasons: Money, Gambling, Drugs, Sex and Porn. Whether you believe it or not, I don’t care. I’m not here to argue with your morals or your personal interests.

Let’s just put it this way, you can go to any doctor with a grocery list of drugs you need and walk out with a script for anything and everything and a few more that you’ll need to counterbalance the others you’re taking within 15 minutes.

Even the doctors are addicted to drugs. Whether it’s growth hormone, plastic surgery, oxycontin, tramadol, pain killers, pain enhancers, anti-depressants like effexor or prozac, or euphoric pills. Whatever your happy hour drug of choice isyou’ll get them in Vegas.

I have never worked in such a degrading, depressing, corrupt, nasty, rude, mean, and the list goes on -town such as Vegas. Which is probably why I really hate it when the network marketing conferences are held in that town; it’s an in and out deal for me – the sooner I can leave the better I am.

What is my take on anti-depressants?

A lot different than my take on them 14 days ago.

Look, I was decidedly ‘hooked’ on Effexor. In fact, I would tell everyone about my amazing friend, Effexor and how it enabled me to deal with my life. Effexor was my credo, my dogma, my true hypothesis. I was ‘hooked’ that Pfizer had made a winning drug and that this was the way of the world. Everyone should be on this drug. That was 14 days ago.

I had suffered through a 2 day withdrawal 4 years ago and since then wholeheartedly believed that I could never go off this drug because it was not feasible for me to keep my sanity and deal with my life without it.

Talk about dependence. When you convince yourself that the drug you are using is not only the answer to all of your prayers but it will inevitably make your life better because you take it is a sad state of affairs. That’s like finding the answer to your life through someone else. In fact, it’s EXACTLY like that. I found the answer to my sorrow, my fear, my loneliness, my life through this drug.

I don’t care if you take anti-depressants. I don’t care what you take. This isn’t about you. This is about my journey in the last 6 days through what has been a living hell of nauseousness, sickness, vomiting, dizziness, brain zaps and that’s not all. It’s my journey through a rabbit hole of addiction based on a drug that is non-addictive. It is my journey. Not yours.

I’m one of millions of Effexor patients who are or were on this drug in its’ varying forms and degrees of potency. I’m one of many people who have been told the drug isn’t addictive only to be lied to and find that my body cannot function normally without it.

My only advice to myself is each moment I must be aware of what I’m doing and where I am. I must learn to cope without creating a drama fit for an off-Broadway production in New York City.

Strength? I don’t care to hear “be strong Nic” that’s such a cliche and to me it’s something someone will say to me when they don’t know what else to say because they think they have to say something.

You don’t have to say anything to a drug addict. There’s nothing to say. You just listen, learn and move on with your life. Just like I have learned to do.

I’m NOT an Addict!! It’s a Prescription!