So, it is official. I am in the club. I just swallowed my first dose of psychiatrist prescribed crazy pill. Soon it will be digested and working its magic on my brain. Adjusting chemicals, re-routing impulses, and (according to all of the websites I’ve been reading) possibly screwing up my libido and causing erectile dysfunction. That part, hopefully, is highly unlikely.

Tony doesn’t see my taking a pill as any big deal. He has already swallowed a bottle of something he found in the dumpster last night and washed it down with a little Scotch. “Breakfast of Champions,” he quotes.

But Tony doesn’t remember that I have a long history of pills. Of course, I wasn’t taking these pills, but all the other crazies in my life were. Luke was always on something–Lithium, zoloft, I dunno. Bipolar, manic-depressive, and prone to going many days without showering. Then there was C., who deals with some depression and OCD tendencies and is overcome by kitties. And Micah with his beautiful insecurity, Michael with his tortured musical temperament, and my sister. She was always a little on edge, probably why she writes so well. She swallows pills, too.

I would like to know how this miniature, white half-moon is able to find its way from my tummy to my mind? I gave it lots of company for its trip: coffee, oatmeal, fake sausage, and sinus medication. What if it gets lost? What if, instead of causing seratonin to flow free up in the attic, it makes other things flow down below?

Well, depending on what is flowing, I bet that could help me find some balance as well.

Crazy people of the world, UNITE!!!