2 weeks of the past 4 have involved blanketing myself in a silence that comes only with a fluctuating family situation, wealth, depression, and long-distance travel. nothing like a visit to your third-world country of origin to remind yourself just how different you are from your white middle/upper class friends. this silence is punctuated only by ~40 episodes of arrested development watched in 5 hour increments in a cerebral palsy like trance that can be achieved only through desperation at a 6 yr old nugget of pop culture that 'culture' actually got right. Occasionally during the two weeks, I have ventured out into the surrounding town of Hopkinsville, KY, to one of a handful of places: taco bell (drive thru), subway, the ymca, wal-mart, kroger, or my dad's office. The latter (grammatically correct to say the latter in a sequence?). Although this is objectively depressing, my increased lexapro dosage is still a new and exciting regimen to my life, and the extra serotonin has helped me adapt and sustain a voyeuristic view of my current situation. After busting my knee via severe constipation, I laid off the lexapro for 2 days because they induce nausea and constipation. during the two days, i initially felt no different and perhaps even in an elevated mood (although this could have been in part to the extra positive attention I was receiving from my overly and unfortunately doting parents). the bookend to our trip to india bookended these two days, and it was at the hyderabad airport that i felt myself slipping into a panic that rendered me literally speechless. the anxiety i'd been subduing for the past 5 weeks of medication enveloped me once again in its prickly arms. I quickly slipped another tablet and within minutes felt calm once more. The speed at which the drug took hold clued me in on its at least somewhat placebo affects, but I was comforted, and that was all that mattered. on the 16 hr flight I slipped two nyquils and awoke only for the 3 in-flight meals, my circadian rhythm embarrassingly primed for adorably plated yet unappetizing plates. after coming to what i consider home (nashville), i was prepped for 2-3 hours with my friends. i settled into bed to rest my throbbing head, and woke up 7 hours later once again to angry parents. after 2 weeks hanging out exclusively with my parents, i became aware two possible scenarios: 1. i love hanging out with my parents, who are hilarious and loving people that genuinely want whats best for me and the people they surround themselves with
2. i am so good at adapting to a given circumstance that i could have spent 2 weeks with anyone + lexapro and had a great time.
either way, the first day back in america seemed bleak in comparison to the warm, sociable, and colorful climate that had so readily taken me in.
the past few days have been better. i am nestling back into my thick blankets of silence, attempting on 3 occasions to listen to music only to shut it off and drift back into the noiseless void of tumblr, thought catalog, vice, and fashion blogs. somehow i think i enjoy reading about music more than actually listening to music.
it's almost like, there is too much good music in the world so why even try to pick some of the vast selection available via blogs, spotify, torrents. etc . but this is how apathy crept into my life and has since loosened it's knot tied around my neck but not enough for me to slip my head through to the other side.
sigh that's a really emo/gai image but i think it 'works' in the context of the rest of this post. although im going to be the only person reading this. me and me in 3 years stalking my 2013 internet presence and finding that i was clever but too lazy for it to matter. which is coincidentally the same thing 55 yr old me reflects on while absentmindedly staring at a blank word document.
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