Posted on by crystal · 117 Comments

Helloooooo Drug Addiction!

Disclaimer: I’m exaggerating. Really. I am.

A few days ago, Princess develeoped a cough, so I went by the chemist to get her some medicine. I was in there maybe half an hour, and I left with Augmentin 457, Rhinathiol Blue-Bottle, 6 painkillers, and a pink packet of Alltyme panty liners. What.

The painkillers were for me by the way.

I’d had a persistent migraine, mostly from freelance stress and lack of sleep, so she gave me six pills and said I should take three a day. I’m pretty sure she said their name was Betapain, and the pills were pink. Also, she said they’d make me drowsy.

I got home and went on with my work, then at about 4.00  p.m, I started feeling sleepy. I hadn’t slept in 23 hours, and I tantrummed at my life coach, but I figured the drowsiness came from the medicine. I was talking to Mr 3CB and sounding drunk and goofy, so he made me go to bed. How I love that boy.

Next morning I woke up grinning. I haven’t slept that well in years! I did have one creepy dream about skiving school … and chicken. When I told my life coach about it, he asked if my meds were hallucinogenic. I said no. How can pink pills hurt anyone?

The following night, I still felt really crappy. I worked way past midnight, and I had to be up in four hours, so I popped another pill. It worked. My four hours felt like 10.

Somewhere amid that work funk, I mentioned to a friend that I experiment with Baileys. Sometimes. Well, actually, two times. Once he’d picked his jaw off the floor, and somewhere in between a discussion on clowns, I mentioned that it’s a bad idea to sniff heroin through your nose. Cocaine, yes, but heroin, no.

I’m pretty sure I heard the jaw shatter that time.

He diagnosed work stress, since he knows *I don’t drink* and I expect him to show up any day now with a priest, a rabbi, and Margaret Wanjiru, kuniwekelea mikono. I can’t translate that without losing the flavour, but it involves exorcism.

By the way, that nose heroin thing? I heard it while watching Pulp Fiction. Say what again. I dare you. I double dare you.

Back to my pink pills. I’ve been telling anyone who will listen how I love these pills, and how I’m glad I only have six, because I can’t stop wearing this goofy grin. I’ve only had two by the way, though this dose makes three.

I’ve had a long day, and I barely slept last night, so I’ve decided to skip Machachari and have an early night. I woke up this morning with my nose running at 6 sneezes a minute, and every time I sneeze, my head spins. I get dizzy while sitting down, and I haven’t had any pink pills since Thursday, so if it’s not unrelated, it’s withdrawal symptoms. Anyway, I decided on an early night and popped a pill to help.

When I opened the blister pack, the medicine wasn’t pink. It was yellow. What? Also, the brown envelope – as well as the blister pack – doesn’t say Betapain. It says Syndol.

Either I’m having a really bad case of gaslights, or I’ve been on a legal high for the last three days.

When I told Mr 3CB I was worried about addiction, I was just kidding around. But as I get myself prepared for a much needed stress-and-drug induced sleep, I decided to Google Syndol and see what would come up.

  1. Advantages: Quick and effective in dealing with migraine and tension headaches.
  2. Disadvantages: Make you incredibly drowsy. Codeine based medication so can become habit forming.

Oh man. What did I get myself into now? Clearly, my low threshold for substances runs deep. I get high by sniffing Reds, and now I’m addicted via three yellow pills in three days? How now?

More excerpts from a Syndol review article on Doo Yoo:

I must stress that these tablets don’t come without a few side effects. First off, they do make you more than a little light-headed. I would best describe the sensation as being a little tipsy. Everything does become a little bit hazy, and it feels like people are talking to you from a great distance and it’s taking you an age to respond. I just tell my work colleagues I’ve taken a couple of my “nutty” tablets (their description…not mine!) and to bear with me for the day. They then understand that asking me to respond to a simple enquiry or deal with a menial task may take me a little longer that day!

Side effect number two is extreme drowsiness.

The third possible and worst side effect of Syndol is that it can become habit forming if you take them on a daily basis. Syndol are codeine based, and therefore potentially addictive. Codeine is known to be addictive as it contains opium derivatives (like a mild form of morphine). These opium derivatives trigger the brain into releasing chemicals called dopamine, which induce feelings of happiness and well-being. Codeine is known to give the user a high and make them feel calmer. Allegedly, some individuals can become hooked on codeine based over the counter medications within three weeks, if taken continuously and to excess.

I’m going to sleep now. Tag me in the morning. Meanwhile, in the immortal words of Eminem …

Em: Me ♫ I’m going to hell. Who’s coming with me?♫

HaileyPrincess: ♫ Somebody plee-aase help me! I think my daddy mummy’s going craaaay-ze! ♫


Posted on by crystal · 15 Comments

Right problem, wrong solution

I was talking to a friend today. He knows that I’m a chronic worrier, and he said something very interesting:

“If you must fulfill your daily worrying quota, worry about something important.”

I had been whining because a friend had unfollowed me on Twitter.

I hang out a lot on Twitter, and I follow and unfollow at … well … I woudn’t say at random exactly. I follow people who sound interesting. I unfolow people hu typ txt msgs tht luk lk this. I follow people that make me laugh. I unfollow people who spend way too long on Chuki FM. I follow people who say stuff that makes me think. I unfollow everyone on #SwaWed […because reading in slow motion is way too much work]. I follow people with interesting user names. I unfollow people who start to annoy me, though mostly it’s just plain old PMS. So you see, my follow/unfollow pattern makes a lot of sense – to me – but it’s mostly pretty random.

I follow a lot of strangers and unfollow a lot of friends. It’s not because I love them any less. It’s because they refuse to properly use RTs. It may be because they’re much more fun in person, or because they shot off ten tweets in a minute. Yes, I know I do that too, but I rarely see myself on my timeline so yeah. *sheepish grin*

Anyway, given my hair trigger follow-unfollows, I really shouldn’t care who does the same for me, right? Except last week, there was a silent même in blogworld. Everyone was doing lists of why they did or didn’t unfollow so-and-so. I noticed I am guilty of all those offenses, and noticed some unfollowed me – twice. Ouch! Hence the whiny conversation.

manga-girl (1)

After setting my head straight, my pal says he knows that I worry, and it seems I enjoy it. Well no, I don’t. I’ve been trying to stop actually, and it’s proving quite hard. So he gave me an antidote.

“In college, girls freak out in the summer when they can’t fit into their swimsuits. They go on crash diets to fit back into them, when the simplest thing to do is buy a big bikini!

For about five seconds, I was tempted to argue against that statement. We’re girls. Buying a bigger swimsuit is … well … stupid. But I knew I wouldn’t win, so I let him go on.

“If you can’t stop worrying, just worry about something else.”

He’s right of course. I have a million things to worry about. Like meeting work deadlines, or getting bills paid on time, or washing my months-dirty jeans, or cleaning the vacuum machine, or pleasing my weevil-shaped spirit creature. The trick is to pick what’s important. The way I’m  wired, as soon as I solve one thing, I worry about something else. So I need to write up my To-worry list, then cross out the stuff that’s too silly. I just love crossing things off to-do lists, so this could be fun …

♫ What do you want from me ♫ Adam Lambert ♫

Posted on by crystal · 9 Comments

Project Happyface

My child and my man are both sanguine, which means one constantly tells jokes to get me to smile, and the other asks, ‘Mummy, why are you so sad?’ three or four times I week. I love my two darlings, and I don’t want it to be their job to cheer me up. When you’re a happy person, and you’re near someone that’s always sad, sooner or later you’ll go away, and I don’t want them to go away.

I have launched Project Happyface as my first step to keeping my loved ones happy and beating my lifelong depression. The idea is to find little things to keep me smiling, so that my two big things don’t get tired of their low paying job.

Mr 3CB is frustrated because I start each day positive, then some little thing goes wrong and I launch into, ‘I’ll never get this right!’ He says I shouldn’t give up each time I slip, because this ish takes practice. I’m trying hard to listen.

This morning looked fabulous. I’ve just finished a big project, and was armed with a to-do list. I was buzzed and ready to attack the day. But then I got bad news and email, and the more bad news on Twitter. The little one was in school and the big one was at work, so I had to handle things myself. I tried to cheer up, but I couldn’t find the energy, so I went to the kitchen instead.

I’m heading for my ideal weight of 60 kilos, so I often ask why I’m eating. Thanks to Dr Phil, the voice in my head asked if I was really hungry or just eating for comfort. Luckily, there are no cookies in my house, and all I could find was leftover rice and cabbage. I made a jug or brown uji to sort my sugar fix and sat down to eat while watching … Dr Phil. What. It was either that or Catalina and Sebastian .

There was this lady on the show who was downright bitchy. When I meet women like that, I wonder what their men see in them. I mean, how can a man love a girl that’s so awful? The kind of girl who says stuff like, ‘Get off me. If you want TLC, then go hug the dog!’

Please note I have trouble dealing with women. They’re really scary, and I’m really judgemental. Also, I’m kind of … well .. I’m more like a guy, except with a uterus, double dees, purple hair, and a tendency to cry during movies and mushy adverts.

Anyway, as I was watching, Dr Phil said something about hiding behind judgement and I had my eureka moment. I have a negativity radar! When I see people, the first thing I notice is their badness. I unconsciously overlook all their good qualities and zone in on their big hooked nose. My radar beeps loudest at traits like manipulation, dishonesty, and malice. Also, it’s especially triggered by bad things that I know reside in me. Lots of times, I say, ‘Oh, she’s so xyz,’ only for someone to say, ‘Yes, but so are you?!’

Love of course does the exact opposite, so  The One will see all your good points and let them eclipse your downside. That’s how all the crazy vamp ladies get husbands. Either that or they’re really good with love potions.

Anyway, by the time I was through with lunch and overthinking, I was sufficiently distracted to forget I was upset, so I came back to my desk and continued the list. I guess distraction is a good way to deal with depression. Instead of struggling to cheer up, I can just look away for a bit and find my happyface again. Now this is a plan I can work with.

♫ I don’t know anybody else ♫ Black Box ♫