Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Wrong by Depeche Mode. Love this song!!
I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique
Wrong, Wrong
There's something wrong with me chemically
Something wrong with me inherently
The wrong mix in the wrong genes
I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means
It was the wrong plan
In the wrong hands
The wrong theory for the wrong man
The wrong eyes on the wrong prize
The wrong questions with the wrong replies
Wrong, Wrong
I was marching to the wrong drum
With the wrong scum
Dishing out the wrong energy
Using all the wrong lines
And the wrong signs
With the wrong intensity
I was on the wrong page of the wrong book
With the wrong rendition of the wrong hook
Made the wrong move, every wrong night
With the wrong tune played till it sounded right yeah
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Report Drug Problems to the FDA?
well, it's worth a shot.
I don't know if anyone reads this blog, but if enough of us start complaining about what has happened to us while we were taking anti-depressant medications, maybe something can be done about it.
The fact remains that I have had a manic episode related to this medication. All of the signs and symptoms were there, and then some. I had no idea that an anti-depressant could do so many things to you.
Check out the official FDA site. Vioxx was pulled from the market because of complaints. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
http://www.fda.gov/Safety/ReportaProblem/default.htm
I don't know if anyone reads this blog, but if enough of us start complaining about what has happened to us while we were taking anti-depressant medications, maybe something can be done about it.
The fact remains that I have had a manic episode related to this medication. All of the signs and symptoms were there, and then some. I had no idea that an anti-depressant could do so many things to you.
Check out the official FDA site. Vioxx was pulled from the market because of complaints. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
http://www.fda.gov/Safety/ReportaProblem/default.htm
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thieves like us?
It's hard to say if these people who are looting after the earthquake in Chile are really thieves or if they are taking food in order to survive. Even the law recognizes that people who steal from neccessity will not be punished with the same severity. With electricity most likely not working, and no one working, what are people to do when they have no food?
Here is a link. I just don't see it as the same. Nor do I see it as the same thing when someone is taking a medication which definitely can influence behavior.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/lt_chile_earthquake
Please note that they did figure this out:
Here is a link. I just don't see it as the same. Nor do I see it as the same thing when someone is taking a medication which definitely can influence behavior.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/lt_chile_earthquake
Please note that they did figure this out:
To strip away any need for looting, Bachelet announced that essentials on the shelves of major supermarkets would be given away for free, under the supervision of authorities. Soldiers and police will also distribute food and water, she said.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Devil Made Me Do It
After thinking for several months that it would make a difference, after my medical records were subpoenaed, after crying about the medication causing me all these problems...
I was told today that I should take the plea.
Because if I got up on the stand and said that I was stealing stuff under the influence of this medication, and that I was doing it all the time that I was risking more than 3 years of probation. I was risking jail time.
Because my reaction to the medication was severe and out of the ordinary, even if my doctor and counselor were willing testify for me that it was medication related, it didn't matter.
To a jury...
My tears were crocodile tears.
My defense began to sound like, "The devil made me do it."
It doesn't matter that these impulses are gone after getting off the medication. Never mind that my hair is still in the process of growing back. No matter that my face is scarred from acne. Never mind all of that. Never mind the truth.
Thanks to the Twinkie defense, it sounds like "The devil made me do it."
My attorney said, "I don't care what the truth is. I care about protecting you."
When I entered my plea, the judge seemed to feel sorry for me from the expression on his face. Maybe he knew that pleas aren't always the truth. I was so disoriented I couldn't find my car in the parking lot. I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses somewhere. I have to pay fines and restitution. I now have a record with two misdemeanors. I have to do community service.
People have lied to me. My first lawyers said "Trespassing isn't priorable." When I first went in to talk to someone at the DA's office. I was told, "You have a good case for trial." Another attorney decided to subpoena all of my medical documents because he said he believed me. Today I was told by my final attorney, "He just didn't have the backbone to tell you. He knew he was being transferred and so he left it to me to tell you the truth."
The "Irresistible Impulse" defense didn't work. "Entrapment" didn't work either. The drug defense didn't work because she had friends who said they had friends who were on that same drug and they didn't do those things.
So all that was left was, "The devil made me do it." No one believes in the devil anymore. And no one believes he can do anything.
Shit.
I took the plea.
I was told today that I should take the plea.
Because if I got up on the stand and said that I was stealing stuff under the influence of this medication, and that I was doing it all the time that I was risking more than 3 years of probation. I was risking jail time.
Because my reaction to the medication was severe and out of the ordinary, even if my doctor and counselor were willing testify for me that it was medication related, it didn't matter.
To a jury...
My tears were crocodile tears.
My defense began to sound like, "The devil made me do it."
It doesn't matter that these impulses are gone after getting off the medication. Never mind that my hair is still in the process of growing back. No matter that my face is scarred from acne. Never mind all of that. Never mind the truth.
Thanks to the Twinkie defense, it sounds like "The devil made me do it."
My attorney said, "I don't care what the truth is. I care about protecting you."
When I entered my plea, the judge seemed to feel sorry for me from the expression on his face. Maybe he knew that pleas aren't always the truth. I was so disoriented I couldn't find my car in the parking lot. I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses somewhere. I have to pay fines and restitution. I now have a record with two misdemeanors. I have to do community service.
People have lied to me. My first lawyers said "Trespassing isn't priorable." When I first went in to talk to someone at the DA's office. I was told, "You have a good case for trial." Another attorney decided to subpoena all of my medical documents because he said he believed me. Today I was told by my final attorney, "He just didn't have the backbone to tell you. He knew he was being transferred and so he left it to me to tell you the truth."
The "Irresistible Impulse" defense didn't work. "Entrapment" didn't work either. The drug defense didn't work because she had friends who said they had friends who were on that same drug and they didn't do those things.
So all that was left was, "The devil made me do it." No one believes in the devil anymore. And no one believes he can do anything.
Shit.
I took the plea.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Trail on Monday, I hate my life.
After many postponements, the trial will finally happen this Monday.
I am not taking any psychotropic meds. Except for being severely stressed out, I am almost normal. I am so fortunately to have people around me who believe me and this will become part of the trial.
Unfortunately, something else is coming down the pike that I thought I would be cleared of. Unfortunately, our justice system is an injustice to us. I haven't been arrested on this. My lawyer is appearing for me on Monday at one court while I attend at another.
The thing is, I didn't do this. But the investigation was probably negligible. I even told the detective what to look for and he didn't do it.
I've been falsely accused of a hit and run. I worry about writing all the details. But I didn't do this. I was falsely imprisoned against my will. I was falsely accused of trying to hit a man. I was given a parking ticket and then I asked if I could leave. I was very disturbed about the way that they treated me when this occurred and I called 10 minutes after I left to report the event to the concierge desk. Somehow in the course of the next few days, the men who detained me invented a wild story and in this version I hit him at a high speed. News to me. I really wouldn't do that. When I called, I left my phone number at their workplace. No one said anything about an injury. They waited 7 days to contact the police. Does anyone else think these people got in trouble at work and then lied to cover it up??
The problem is that I now have a record. I hate my life. This is really serious. I'm scared that something bad will happen, even though they have my complaint on file at the place where this happened. I can only hope that there is video somewhere that hasn't been destroyed. This happened nearly 1 year ago.
I had just started to feel happy and like I could go on with my life again. I thought for sure that they would find the videotape and the complaint I made to drop this. They just didn't. They didn't believe me.
The cruelest twist of fate that ever occurred in my life was the head injury I had a few years ago. It placed me on medication that did awful things to me. And everything else that has followed as I reacted to it worse and worse has been a nightmare.
I wish I could be someone else. I hate my life.
I am not taking any psychotropic meds. Except for being severely stressed out, I am almost normal. I am so fortunately to have people around me who believe me and this will become part of the trial.
Unfortunately, something else is coming down the pike that I thought I would be cleared of. Unfortunately, our justice system is an injustice to us. I haven't been arrested on this. My lawyer is appearing for me on Monday at one court while I attend at another.
The thing is, I didn't do this. But the investigation was probably negligible. I even told the detective what to look for and he didn't do it.
I've been falsely accused of a hit and run. I worry about writing all the details. But I didn't do this. I was falsely imprisoned against my will. I was falsely accused of trying to hit a man. I was given a parking ticket and then I asked if I could leave. I was very disturbed about the way that they treated me when this occurred and I called 10 minutes after I left to report the event to the concierge desk. Somehow in the course of the next few days, the men who detained me invented a wild story and in this version I hit him at a high speed. News to me. I really wouldn't do that. When I called, I left my phone number at their workplace. No one said anything about an injury. They waited 7 days to contact the police. Does anyone else think these people got in trouble at work and then lied to cover it up??
The problem is that I now have a record. I hate my life. This is really serious. I'm scared that something bad will happen, even though they have my complaint on file at the place where this happened. I can only hope that there is video somewhere that hasn't been destroyed. This happened nearly 1 year ago.
I had just started to feel happy and like I could go on with my life again. I thought for sure that they would find the videotape and the complaint I made to drop this. They just didn't. They didn't believe me.
The cruelest twist of fate that ever occurred in my life was the head injury I had a few years ago. It placed me on medication that did awful things to me. And everything else that has followed as I reacted to it worse and worse has been a nightmare.
I wish I could be someone else. I hate my life.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Cured of Compulsive Shopping, Spending Sprees,
When I was on Lexapro, I used to feel a deep spiritual connection to Tory Burch... Rodeo Drive and Robertson were my special places. I still know all the best places to park, eat and shop. Sometimes 5 large bags from a department store had to wait until people were asleep so I could sneak them up to my room without being detected. My cousin asked me one day, "Don't you want to save your money?" I took a friend shopping once and she was fairly convinced that I was out of control and not shopping normally.
She was right.
My wardrobe used to fill a small closet in a small NYC apartment. My collection exploded to the point that the rod in the closet is bent from the weight and I seriously doubt another thing could fit. It started with being video taped for a class. My humble wardrobe needed help. The Lexapro kicked in and a trickle became a torrent. My clothes now spill out of a closet 4 times the size of that one.
$1200 on SK-II was NOTHING to me. Only the BEST would do and it was far better than the $320 I spent on La Mer. Lexapro gave me acne.
I bought $350 on French lingerie. I've only worn one of the items I bought.
An $80 D&G T-shirt found its way into my collection. I almost bought a lambswool jacket for $2500 even though I'm allergic.
I went to Just Cavalli and bought two dresses that don't even fit me. I HAD TO HAVE that feather print dress.
Salvatore Ferragamo shoes for $350... At 40% off I HAD TO HAVE THEM!
The $150 Burberry scarf that was JUST PERFECT.
And $6,000+ in jewelry that I had to have because it was on sale, perfect for me or the store was closing.
Any designer by the name Max was a personal friend...BCBG Max Azria, Studio M... At Max Studio I bought two dresses for $150 each at different times. Only one of them fits me.
I bought a $1200 Ferragamo dress that practically CALLED MY NAME for $250 or so and it DOESN'T EVEN FIT!!!!!
Marc by Marc Jacobs, another favorite, has designed items that I haven't even worn because they don't fit. I was convinced I could lose the weight to get into them. I really NEEDED the navy heart print dress. I mean, I couldn't LIVE without it. I think I spent $700 or so, but I'm not sure.
And the Ferragamo bag was AT SUCH A DISCOUNT that a normal person wouldn't say no. I mean a $1400 bag for $500? Who would walk away from that?
MOST PEOPLE!!!!
At one point, a $500 shopping spree at a second run store was to be my reward for weight loss. But blowing that became the norm; I couldn't stop myself. I returned LOADS of things that I bought legitimately and then would turn around and take them back to the store.
Of course those returns led to MORE PURCHASES...
She was right.
My wardrobe used to fill a small closet in a small NYC apartment. My collection exploded to the point that the rod in the closet is bent from the weight and I seriously doubt another thing could fit. It started with being video taped for a class. My humble wardrobe needed help. The Lexapro kicked in and a trickle became a torrent. My clothes now spill out of a closet 4 times the size of that one.
$1200 on SK-II was NOTHING to me. Only the BEST would do and it was far better than the $320 I spent on La Mer. Lexapro gave me acne.
I bought $350 on French lingerie. I've only worn one of the items I bought.
An $80 D&G T-shirt found its way into my collection. I almost bought a lambswool jacket for $2500 even though I'm allergic.
I went to Just Cavalli and bought two dresses that don't even fit me. I HAD TO HAVE that feather print dress.
Salvatore Ferragamo shoes for $350... At 40% off I HAD TO HAVE THEM!
The $150 Burberry scarf that was JUST PERFECT.
And $6,000+ in jewelry that I had to have because it was on sale, perfect for me or the store was closing.
Any designer by the name Max was a personal friend...BCBG Max Azria, Studio M... At Max Studio I bought two dresses for $150 each at different times. Only one of them fits me.
I bought a $1200 Ferragamo dress that practically CALLED MY NAME for $250 or so and it DOESN'T EVEN FIT!!!!!
Marc by Marc Jacobs, another favorite, has designed items that I haven't even worn because they don't fit. I was convinced I could lose the weight to get into them. I really NEEDED the navy heart print dress. I mean, I couldn't LIVE without it. I think I spent $700 or so, but I'm not sure.
And the Ferragamo bag was AT SUCH A DISCOUNT that a normal person wouldn't say no. I mean a $1400 bag for $500? Who would walk away from that?
MOST PEOPLE!!!!
At one point, a $500 shopping spree at a second run store was to be my reward for weight loss. But blowing that became the norm; I couldn't stop myself. I returned LOADS of things that I bought legitimately and then would turn around and take them back to the store.
Of course those returns led to MORE PURCHASES...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Klepto
http://health.howstuffworks.com/kleptomania2.htm
A head injury to the frontal lobe may have actually caused my behavior? Kleptomania is an actual disorder? I don't know how to explain how I could do all of this.
I have a closet full of things I can't wear, don't even like. And now that I am off meds, I'm a bit shocked at how low cut some of them are. I'm shocked and puzzled, why did I take stuff that doesn't fit me or that I don't even want? I've given tons of it away since the stores wouldn't benefit by having it all back. I also shopped compulsively and ran up my credit cards. Everything was out of control.
I'm not surprised if people are a little scared of me or din't like me after what I have been through. It's alot. I really liked this supernice guy and then realized he is seriously too good for me. It hurt. But I'm not really bad. If I had never been put on Lexapro or had a head injury I never would have done these things. Never would have believed that I was or should be good at it. I'm disgusted.
Now when I go to the store I actually feel the normal anxiety that stops people from taking things. Can a medication really remove your moral center or hijack your sense of right and wrong. I don't know how else to explain it. I'm so confused. I seriously think if I were still on the medication I would still be doing all of these things, unable to feel that sense of right and wrong.
A head injury to the frontal lobe may have actually caused my behavior? Kleptomania is an actual disorder? I don't know how to explain how I could do all of this.
I have a closet full of things I can't wear, don't even like. And now that I am off meds, I'm a bit shocked at how low cut some of them are. I'm shocked and puzzled, why did I take stuff that doesn't fit me or that I don't even want? I've given tons of it away since the stores wouldn't benefit by having it all back. I also shopped compulsively and ran up my credit cards. Everything was out of control.
I'm not surprised if people are a little scared of me or din't like me after what I have been through. It's alot. I really liked this supernice guy and then realized he is seriously too good for me. It hurt. But I'm not really bad. If I had never been put on Lexapro or had a head injury I never would have done these things. Never would have believed that I was or should be good at it. I'm disgusted.
Now when I go to the store I actually feel the normal anxiety that stops people from taking things. Can a medication really remove your moral center or hijack your sense of right and wrong. I don't know how else to explain it. I'm so confused. I seriously think if I were still on the medication I would still be doing all of these things, unable to feel that sense of right and wrong.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
twtpoll :: Ex-Con Vs. Bad Credit : Who Would You Hire? (via @applicants)
twtpoll :: Ex-Con Vs. Bad Credit : Who Would You Hire? (via @applicants)
Posted using ShareThis
Looks like I'm in trouble.
Some of you are too.
Please change your tune. It's too late for me. I'm officially a bad person. Wish I could still take the meds so I didn't realize it, but that's what got me in trouble in the first place. Lately, I wish I was dead/not me/could be someone else. A head injury was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Posted using ShareThis
Looks like I'm in trouble.
Some of you are too.
Please change your tune. It's too late for me. I'm officially a bad person. Wish I could still take the meds so I didn't realize it, but that's what got me in trouble in the first place. Lately, I wish I was dead/not me/could be someone else. A head injury was the worst thing that ever happened to me.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Making Out OK (in the Car at Least)
I met a guy for coffee at the mall. I wasn't sure what his intentions were. He did mention that the place where I had parked was the "make out" section. He showed me exactly what he meant when he dropped me off.Him: Do you mind if we park here and just talk?
Me: No.
Him: It's like we could look at the stars with the top open, except it's not dark.
Me: giggle.
Him: So what kinds of guys do you like? Do you have a type?
Me: I don't know. I don't really have a type.
Him: Do you like white guys?
Me: Yes.
Him: Do you like me?
Me: Yes. How about you? Do you have a type?
Him: I like them all. I don't think I could be happy with just one.
Me: Looking is OK, it's just being faithful that's important.
Him: You're sexy--the way you smile. You're amazing.
Me: Really?
Him: Yes.
Me: Tell me more about me.
Him: You've got beautiful eyes, beautiful hair. A cute smile. Nice teeth...
He shifted so his body was turned toward me. He reached for my face with his hand. And then he moved in for the kill. His kisses went up and down my neck making me moan softly. He was breathing harder and whispered "Come here." He pulled me closer and caressed then started massaging my butt. "Oh, you're so beautiful." He reach down my shirt so he could play with my boobs and suck my nipples. I kept saying, "Slow down." He pulled my right hand down to his pants so I could feel his impressive bulge. I put my hand on his chest after touching him briefly. He shifted around and then put my hand down there again. This time I was feeling his actual member. It was hard, but the skin was so soft. I squeezed it a few times. "mmmm" I wanted him but not here, not this way. I barely know him.
I was getting nervous. The last thing I need is to add something else to my present charges. (Lewd conduct, indecent exposure...It could hardly be considered prostitution since there was no cash involved and he bought coffee and a sandwich that cost a total of $13.15--for both of us.) I started pulling away. Part of me didn't want to, but it would be too easy to get another ticket for something where we were. The mall police station was so close. If I'm going to be with someone I want to be able to relax. Though I had already pulled away and then crossed my legs subconsciously, the mall security guards were very curious when they saw him kissing my neck again.
Him: So, I'm just curious, how many dates does it take for you--3, 4, 5?
Me: Ummm (I was thinking 5 months)
Him: Girls always say that they've been with 3 guys, but guys we always think about the attraction first.
Me: I want to take things a little bit slower. I want to know that it means something.
Him: If I were a girl, I'd be the same way.
I later texted him:
Me: I can still smell you on me.
Him: Good then I left my mark.
Me: I'm still thinking about it.
Him: I was dying for you to go down.
Me: I like surprises dates like that, but I might be more in the mood after a really nice date.
I haven't heard from him in few days. Oh well. Is it because I said something about serial killers and going back to some guys place being dangerous? Is it because I didn't really have a good answer for his question, "So why are you so interested in the law?" Or is it because I didn't answer when he asked how many dates it would take before I slept with someone? Truth be told, I wouldn't know how many dates it would take, but I have to feel like a guy cares about me. Other than the pecadillos I have shared, I'm a really nice girl hanging on for a dream of being with someone who cares for me. Could be that he was just after a little thrill in the makeout garage. In that case, he didn't really get what he wanted.
I keep wondering why I stopped myself from doing this and yet couldn't stop myself from stealing.
Me: No.
Him: It's like we could look at the stars with the top open, except it's not dark.
Me: giggle.
Him: So what kinds of guys do you like? Do you have a type?
Me: I don't know. I don't really have a type.
Him: Do you like white guys?
Me: Yes.
Him: Do you like me?
Me: Yes. How about you? Do you have a type?
Him: I like them all. I don't think I could be happy with just one.
Me: Looking is OK, it's just being faithful that's important.
Him: You're sexy--the way you smile. You're amazing.
Me: Really?
Him: Yes.
Me: Tell me more about me.
Him: You've got beautiful eyes, beautiful hair. A cute smile. Nice teeth...
He shifted so his body was turned toward me. He reached for my face with his hand. And then he moved in for the kill. His kisses went up and down my neck making me moan softly. He was breathing harder and whispered "Come here." He pulled me closer and caressed then started massaging my butt. "Oh, you're so beautiful." He reach down my shirt so he could play with my boobs and suck my nipples. I kept saying, "Slow down." He pulled my right hand down to his pants so I could feel his impressive bulge. I put my hand on his chest after touching him briefly. He shifted around and then put my hand down there again. This time I was feeling his actual member. It was hard, but the skin was so soft. I squeezed it a few times. "mmmm" I wanted him but not here, not this way. I barely know him.
I was getting nervous. The last thing I need is to add something else to my present charges. (Lewd conduct, indecent exposure...It could hardly be considered prostitution since there was no cash involved and he bought coffee and a sandwich that cost a total of $13.15--for both of us.) I started pulling away. Part of me didn't want to, but it would be too easy to get another ticket for something where we were. The mall police station was so close. If I'm going to be with someone I want to be able to relax. Though I had already pulled away and then crossed my legs subconsciously, the mall security guards were very curious when they saw him kissing my neck again.
Him: So, I'm just curious, how many dates does it take for you--3, 4, 5?
Me: Ummm (I was thinking 5 months)
Him: Girls always say that they've been with 3 guys, but guys we always think about the attraction first.
Me: I want to take things a little bit slower. I want to know that it means something.
Him: If I were a girl, I'd be the same way.
I later texted him:
Me: I can still smell you on me.
Him: Good then I left my mark.
Me: I'm still thinking about it.
Him: I was dying for you to go down.
Me: I like surprises dates like that, but I might be more in the mood after a really nice date.
I haven't heard from him in few days. Oh well. Is it because I said something about serial killers and going back to some guys place being dangerous? Is it because I didn't really have a good answer for his question, "So why are you so interested in the law?" Or is it because I didn't answer when he asked how many dates it would take before I slept with someone? Truth be told, I wouldn't know how many dates it would take, but I have to feel like a guy cares about me. Other than the pecadillos I have shared, I'm a really nice girl hanging on for a dream of being with someone who cares for me. Could be that he was just after a little thrill in the makeout garage. In that case, he didn't really get what he wanted.
I keep wondering why I stopped myself from doing this and yet couldn't stop myself from stealing.
The Truth Is No One Cares
It's sad. No one cares until you make them care. No one cares--not even a public defender who is supposed to have a bleeding heart because they took a low paying attorney job. Not until you make them care.
That's what I had to do. I had to insist that they look at my medical records, talk to my counselor and listen to me. Why should they care? I told my Public Defender, "I don't think you even like me." He answered, "I don't know you." He doesn't. I had just met him.
The offer: 3 years probation.
The problem: How is that really going to help me or anyone else when I was taking medication that made me compulsive?
I couldn't stop myself. I only got caught twice. I wanted to stop and couldn't.
If you ever get stopped for anything, MAKE THEM CARE. I wish I had known that the first time around. I wouldn't have accepted the plea, but then I was not completely understanding everything that was going on. I wasn't aware that the medication was lifting my inhibitions in that way. But now I think about things I used to do easily. I imagined myself taking a pack of cookies with my coffee at the counter today, but I couldn't do it. I did that on numerous occaisions when I was medicated. I don't know what to think of myself now that I am on the other side.
That's what I had to do. I had to insist that they look at my medical records, talk to my counselor and listen to me. Why should they care? I told my Public Defender, "I don't think you even like me." He answered, "I don't know you." He doesn't. I had just met him.
The offer: 3 years probation.
The problem: How is that really going to help me or anyone else when I was taking medication that made me compulsive?
I couldn't stop myself. I only got caught twice. I wanted to stop and couldn't.
If you ever get stopped for anything, MAKE THEM CARE. I wish I had known that the first time around. I wouldn't have accepted the plea, but then I was not completely understanding everything that was going on. I wasn't aware that the medication was lifting my inhibitions in that way. But now I think about things I used to do easily. I imagined myself taking a pack of cookies with my coffee at the counter today, but I couldn't do it. I did that on numerous occaisions when I was medicated. I don't know what to think of myself now that I am on the other side.
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