TheBanyanTree: Change of Meds

[Tobie Shapiro]

November 23, 2000000005


Dear Brain Chemistries,

	Meyshe has had a hard time this year with depression.  And so 
has his mother.  And so has his twin sister.  We've all got our 
reasons, and we've all got our meds.  This is beyond, "Just buck up, 
Booky!  Things'll be swell!"   The pharmaceuticals are absolutely 
necessary.

	Above and beyond that, both my kids are at a difficult age 
anyway.  They are 18 now and feeling the archetypal urge to spring 
from the nest, but neither is ready.  The anguished cry, "Leave me 
alone!" , by Feyna is followed by her collapsing tearfully into my 
arms when I embrace her to ease the misery.  Meyshe talks about 
having a wife and children, and I don't know whether to kvell or 
weep, because I still have to hire someone to stay with him when I 
leave the house.  Who knows whether he will ever be independent, able 
to sink or swim on his own.  Like the rest of us.  He waits for me 
outside the bathroom door even in public places.  I've left him alone 
for brief trips to the corner, but nothing more.  I am tethered, 
thus, to the front door.

	The pharmacy knows me on a first name basis.  They even ask 
me  how the divorce is going, and they pronounce the kids' names 
correctly.  When I go there, the hundreds of dollars go flying out of 
my checking account, and it is scant consolation that it's all tax 
deductible.  We need the meds now.  And we need to eat now.  Mom 
needs a pair of slippers and a new jacket.  And we all need our 
therapists.  We stay on top of it.

	A few weeks ago, Meyshe started to talk about suicide.  He 
was not threatening to jump; he was fixating on the topic:  Do more 
and more teenagers kill themselves?  Have you ever known someone who 
killed himself?  Do people ever kill themselves because they don't 
think they can help the world?

	And then, the awful: Would you be sad if I killed myself? 
Yes, I would be sad for the rest of my life, Meyshe.  Grandma would 
cry.  Feyna would cry.  I would not stop crying ever.  You are so 
necessary to so many people.  Just the fact that you are here on this 
planet with your good heart and your wonderful ethics, your love and 
care, just that you are here makes this a better world.  You must 
promise me that you will talk to me if you feel like hurting 
yourself, because I can help.  Don't think those things all alone. 
He promised.

	Well, the world is in a heap of trouble.  It's got hurricanes 
and earthquakes and wars.  There are people starving and small 
children working 12 hour days at sweatshops for pennies a day.  There 
is injustice and hatred, illness and ignorance.  Meyshe sees all this 
and cannot get it out of his head.  Wonder and compassion, beauty and 
hope, enlightenment, joy and invention become invisible to him.  The 
newspaper is a bomb set to go off if he reads the headlines.  We 
cannot talk politics as he will not be able to stop.  He never gets 
it off his chest.  He just gets sucked deeper and deeper into 
perseverance.  He becomes irrational.  Mama picks up the pieces and 
tries to put Meyshe together again.

	I called the doctor who prescribes Meyshe's meds and recited 
his state of mind.  I also told her a curious thing that I'd noticed. 
Meyshe is always ecstatic when he gets up in the morning.  He leaps 
downstairs, runs back and forth, hopping when he changes direction. 
He is  laughing and talking in a loud voice to himself.  He 
daydreams.  That's what he calls it.  He dances all over the house, 
and can barely sit still to eat his breakfast and take his pills. 
Meyshe's pill regimen:  an anti-depressent, Luvox, a mood stabilizer 
for the perseveration and paranoia, Seroquel, and a ritalin 
derivative, Metadate, to help him calm down and focus.  You can't be 
leaping around in the classroom now, can you?  What would be learned 
by anyone?  (Maybe the dance steps.  That could actually help a day 
at school.)  Then, about a half hour after he takes his pills, he 
becomes solemn.  This turns into grim.  And by the time he'd get home 
from school, he would be depressed.  Anxious.  Volatile.

	The doctor decided to substitute plain old Ritalin for the 
Metadate.  Just see what it might do.  Report to her after a few days.

	I have this to report:  Meyshe is feeling better now.  He is 
able to laugh and play around, even after taking his meds.  He calms 
down from a bout of, "Oh, how horrible is this world," and can see 
the hope and tiny miracles in life.  No talk of suicide.

	Today, he came home and handed me an essay that he did at 
school today.  It was a spontaneous essay on Thankfulness, with 
instructions on what to include in the content, and directions to put 
in paragraphs at appropriate places.  Five paragraphs, including a 
conclusion wrap-up.  The format can sometimes eclipse the content, 
since it's so much easier to grade.

	This is what he wrote, word for word, misspellings and 
grammatical errors in tact.

 
*********************************************************************************
	Happiness

	What am I thankful for?  Well, I am satsified that I have a 
personality which is loving, a sense of justice, selfless, and very 
intelligent.  I am an Artist, Musician, and a Writer.  I have a 
family that cares for me; friends to help me; and living in the San 
Francisco Bay Area.  I want to be an advocate for social and 
environmental justice.  I have a good sense of humor.  I have several 
interests!  I have so much knowledge.  I'm not macho!  I'm happy 
about the fact that so many universities, libraries, museums, and 
other places that are open to me, waiting for me to come to them. 
So, when I go to college, I'd choose the Arts, Geography, History, 
Anthropology, and Languages e.g. Latin, Greek, German, French, 
Spanish, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Tibetan, Hebrew, Arabic, 
and Scandinavian, and Ecology.

	I'm also grateful that people of all ages, races, cultural, 
ethnic, and political background, sexual orientation, religion, and 
all others live here in close harmony.  Who knows?  Maybe I can share 
my knowledge to the next generation and make a difference.  Oh, if 
only I can help the United States and the World right now?!  I love 
the Earth!  That's what I'm thankful for:  For the whole Earth and 
Humanity!  Why should I compare myself to others?  Why can't we all 
be thankful that we're here on the planet?!!

	*********************************************************************

	I am thankful that I am here on the planet.  I am thankful 
for Meyshe's spirit which can rise above the obstacle of his autism 
and cure a small piece of the world.

	Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

	Love,

	Tobie
-- 




Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net