It was Sunday night in late April. My girlfriend Alicia and I were filling out our forms to apply for unemployment. My former company forced me out of my management position and she had resigned from her position. The atmosphere at the dining room table was thick with tension and our intake of wine didn’t help it any. Apparently, many months of taking Prozac didn’t improve my external situation.
As we wrote, we also bickered over, who knows what. She finally blew her stack and threw a glass of wine in my face. I didn’t take kindly to that and called her a few choice names. She outdid me when she ended her verbal attack with the words “You’re nothing but a no-good loser.” Well, I guess her real feelings for me finally rose to the surface. All I could do was take another drink of wine and wonder how I got into this sorry situation. At that point, I doubt if anything could help my state of mind and that included the high dose of Prozac in my system.
As I sat there it didn’t occur to me the evening would completely deteriorate, that the crack-up boom had arrived. Suddenly, she got up, went upstairs and woke up her two young daughters. When they came downstairs she said she was hungry and wanted to go to Wendy’s. I said give me a minute so I can get ready. I went upstairs to freshen up.
When I came downstairs they had left without me. I walked outside and realized my car was missing. I thought “Why did I leave my keys on the dining room table.” I went back inside, hoping she would return with my vehicle. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be.
About a 30 minutes later the phone rang. It was the local police department. The police officer told me they found my vehicle abandoned and wrecked in a ditch. It would be a sleepless night filled with worry and anxiety, an internal state of intense pain that Prozac couldn’t help.
Depression and the Doctor Visit
As mentioned in the previous article Depression and the Summertime Blues, the General Manager of my place of employment insisted I make an appointment with my doctor. What transpired led up to that fateful April day.
When he examined me, he discovered my blood pressure was extremely high, something like 178/97. He asked me how I feeling. I told him about my depression. He handed me two prescriptions which I immediately filled at the pharmacy. He also referred me to a psychiatrist. Does he think I’m crazy or what?
After a couple of week of taking the prescriptions, I started feeling pretty darn good. I looked at the labels on the prescription bottle wondering what the heck was in the pills. I did some research and found out the first one was used to treat high blood pressure. Then I discovered the other one Prozac was used to treat depression. My doctor had supplied me with some magic pills. Happy days are here again.
A Trip to the Psychiatrist
It was a thrill to see that my psychiatrist was a woman. I guess at that point I was getting lonely for female companionship. She asked me how I was feeling. I said good except when I’m home by myself. She doubled my prescription from 20mg to 40mg, which started something I never would have believed.
I also had the privilege of consulting with a female psychologist who took special interest in my vivid dreams. I’m not sure how much the sessions helped me, but I enjoyed the dream analysis. It seemed much of my problems stemmed from my terrible relationship with my mother and the fact that my father didn’t protect me from her mental instability, which is something else I might go into some time. Unfortunately, when I didn’t agree to give up my partying ways, my insurance company refused to pay for any more visits. Apparently, the only drugs you’re allowed to take are the ones Big Pharma approves.
A Temporary Improvement
My mood seemed to improve. In addition, my waist line began to shrink. The Prozac and the work-outs at the gym seemed to result in weight loss.
I’ve always been an introvert; however, the Prozac seemed to transform me into an extrovert as I became more outgoing. At this point I decided life was all about action. Who needed a philosophy like Objectivism to guide them? Meditation became a distant memory. It was time to party, party and party some more. Now all, I needed was some female companionship, women who were into sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. The law of attraction must work, because soon they entered my life.
My new-found extroversion also landed me an opportunity to become a trainer and conduct seminars which was quite rewarding. I received high ratings for my efforts.
Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll
Everywhere I went I attracted women, which boosted my ego into the stratosphere. It was like I died and went to Hedonist Heaven. I remember walking into a corporate manager’s office for a meeting. Since I had to wait about ten minutes I had the privilege of conversing with his secretary, a nice-looking red-head. Suddenly, she started talking about her sex life, with suggestions I could be part of it. Nothing became of it because my plate was already full. I left believing that Prozac exists as a miracle drug.
It was obvious I had shed my Reluctant Objectivist persona to become a lady’s man for the first time in my life. The anticipation of passion, romance and hot sex drove me to the heights of desire, which means here comes unbridled emotion; there goes reason and rationality.
During this time, the two managers I worked with left for higher positions and were replaced by two strait-laced women who eventually took a dislike to me and my partying ways. The rest of the staff gave the new General Manager the nickname “The Barracuda.” Soon her and her associate were trying to run me off, which caused me undue stress. I went back to the psychiatrist and told her what I was going through. Her solution was to increase my dose of Prozac to 80mg.
I decided to find a new position and went to a resume specialist named Bonnie Jean. She was about 15 to 20 years older than me, but attractive with auburn hair and deep brown eyes. Still, all I wanted was a good resume.
After she asked me for my date of birth, she threw me a surprise question. She asked “Are you dating anyone.” I said yes. She then asked me what her astrological sign was. I had to think for a minute, then I gave her the sign of my favorite girlfriend Alicia which was Aries. She shook her head and said I needed someone who is a Scorpio rising. I thought about that for a few seconds and then I asked her “What is your sign? She said Scorpio rising. We started dating. She was also up to indulging in sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.
I was getting more reckless, partying too much and not caring much about anything but pleasure. I could go into more details about other women I partied with such as Cheryl, Darlene, Judy etc. As you probably suspected, my activities started wearing me out. In early December, I got some rest when my company sent me out of town for one week of additional management training.
During my lonely stay in a St. Louis hotel, I started thinking about my current life and decided I would stick with my favorite girlfriend Alicia. I considered Bonnie Jean, but she had another boyfriend who was threatening me and I didn’t need that problem. I didn’t realize the crack-up boom was moving quickly towards my messed up life.
The Party Continues
When I got back in town that weekend Alicia had a surprise waiting for me. She came to my apartment with a bag of potent marijuana, some crystal meth and several bottles of wine. We were going to be reelin’ and a rockin’ till the break of day. What an incredible night it was. In our frenzy of sex and drugs we fell in love. After all, reason and rationality have nothing to do with love. It’s all emotion. You can see how far gone I was. The crack-up boom was only 4 months away.
We got together whenever possible. The time away from her was filled with anticipation of our next encounter. Once we in each other’s arms nothing else much mattered. What was really love and what was Prozac induced I don’t know, and I didn’t care. We phased out the crystal meth, but the rest of the party that included weed, wine and sex continued. Finally, the day arrived when I made a near fatal mistake and asked her to move in with me. She accepted my invitation.
The Crack-Up Boom
At the end of January, I leased a larger apartment so Alicia and her two daughters could move in. I thought my future was made and it was, but not in the way I desired. The crack-up boom was accelerating down the tracks of life.
We had a hard time adjusting to the new circumstances. Our passion remained strong but some negativity started seeping in. We hoped our relationship would be like a rose garden; however, as most lovers do we forgot that rose bushes have thorns and we got pricked quite often.
One Tuesday morning in late February I woke up filled with anger at my work situation, a place I was still at because I didn’t take advantage of my new resume. No longer did I have my meditation practice to take control of my feelings. I wasn’t even a Reluctant Objectivist. My emotions were out of control. With Mr. Prozac backing me, I went to work, walked in the Barracuda’s office and resigned. It was a stupid decision quitting without having another job, but at least I made her day. I cleaned out my desk and left.
Without a job, my financial resources began to dwindle which led to more tension in our relationship. Still, with high levels of Prozac in my system, I felt content to sit around, smoke weed and listen to music. Our sex life was still exciting, but slowly decreasing.
April is a month of flowering and gentle breezes; however, my life was one of personal decay and I didn’t even realize it. Our relationship had no chance of blossoming. We sat around fantasizing about how things would get better. At other times, we argued about the money situation and anything else that would occur. Then that fateful Sunday in late April arrived, the night of the crack-up boom.
RA Meyer – Master the Social Maze
P.S. Look forward for more Tales from the Reluctant Objectivist and mind-expanding articles on Objectivism, Self-Actualization and Spiritual Insights.