Gods, I miss drinking right now.
A few years back I went through a bad time, psychologically speaking, and my doctor quietly pointed out my tendencies towards depression and anxiety, then suggested a series of treatments that might get me back on an even keel. We cycled through the usual suite of pharmaceutical treatments, discovered I had an adverse reaction to most SSRI inhibitors, and eventually settled on a serotonin drug that’s a) hideously expensive on my monthly salary, and b) will make my liver pop like a balloon if I get funky and mix it with booze. All in all, it was a good motivation to do the hard yards in counselling to get a handle on things and get off the antidepressants. Then 2019 hit, and my toolkit for coping wasn’t quite up to the task, and when my partner quietly suggested that my mental healthy might be suffering I went back to the GP and signed up for a fresh prescription. Now it’s
