Thursday, August 07, 2008

Flowers for Algernon

Once upon a time, I took Cymbalta for my depression and anxiety. I weaned off of it, because I did not enjoy having dreams that were so unbelievably real and vivid that I spent a good portion of my day questioning what was a dream and what had actually happened.

That particular med, however, had a really amazing benefit. It made you super smart. Sharp as a tack. Quick on your feet.

It didn't give you knowledge, but it made your brain work more clearly and quickly. I LOVED IT! Depression can actually slow you down cognitively, and well, so can KIDS! So, I was in heaven as I walked around, never missing a type-o in my posts, talking in coherent sentences and calling my children (and husband) by the correct names. It was a Christmas miracle!

Yet, rewind to the first paragraph. I needed to use something else. The super psyche wasn't worth the crazy dreaming. So, I had a non-Biblical divorce from Cymbalta and shacked up with Zoloft.

That is when it happened. The bad side effects started to fade, but so did the good ones. My quick thinking, my clear brain activity, and my articulation all started to melt back into the fog of neurological defunctedness. I watched it happen before my eyes. I would botch up my typing constantly. It grew worse. I was misspelling. I was using "their" instead of "there" (one of my pet peeves), because my brain simply wouldn't let good grammar coincide with my typing. I would look back over my work and be mortified at what I was seeing.

I have also fallen back down the well of literal phonetic spelling, which happens to people many times when they know shorthand. Granted, I'm probably the last living person under the age of 70 that does, so I don't receive a lot of sympathy (and yes, I know it's not spelled "simpathee," but my "Flowers for Algernon" brain doesn't seem to care what you think).

So, new rule. No Grammar Police allowed. I sweat when I think about some of you reading my stuff, because some days I'm just too tired to go back over and correct my Cymbalta-craving brain belches. Heck, I used to be the Chief of the Grammar Police. Had to take an early retirement. That just makes this harder.


"ARTIFICIALLY-INDUCED INTELLIGENCE DETERIORATES AT A RATE OF TIME DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL TO THE QUANTITY OF THE INCREASE."
- Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

20 comments:

Simply Moms said...

I would never ever notice. In a fog land of my own over here.

Christine said...

Hopefully everyone that reads me is a fog head - and we just cancel each other out!

Georgia said...

Ahhh, foggy like me. Actually, I am shocked and dismayed that other people would have the audacity to come to your blog and point out grammatical errors. I have seen it done on other blogs, and am always shocked and appalled at the lack of courtesy.

Shan said...

Don't you go worrying yourself none little lassie. My grammaticals get worser by the day.
I tried to blog last night and couldn't seem to string a sentence together. After a couple of tries I just gave up and went elsewhere. I blame insulin (or the lack there of) any chance I get.

Georgia said...

And, this may have been covered in a previous place, but have you heard of using vinegar as a deodorizer? Putting it in a bowl in the kitchen, oven, etc., helps elminate odors. Bathrooms, too. I like to do it when I cook things (like frying stuff) that tends to smell up the joint. It really helps.

Amanda said...

ooo the "their" "there" mumbo jumbo. I literally want to kick myself when I mess that up. Also, can I just tell you that I love you even more that you just said "It was a Christmas miracle!" I think people used to say that all the time and then it went away. Don't worry, I still say it all the time. Let's bring that phrase back.

debby said...

i am under 40 (39.5 so their) and know shorthand.

you are not alone.

Christine said...

Debby, we should start a club! ;)

mscampbell5 said...

I just thought all my brain farts were from having kids....now I know they come from having kids and from dealing with depression...ugh! I knew I used to be so sharp in school, even in college. It just started going down hill after the 1st child, and dramatically after the 3rd when I developed the depression. It makes me sad to know that there are people correcting you on your grammar...are they not seeing the whole picture?

Mama Podkayne said...

I'm an English Professor and I NEVER saw any error so great to have noticed or detracted from your content. Just saying.......

Devin said...

Zoloft-using mom of six here and dumb as a stump most days. And to think I went to college and graduate school. I'm sure few people would believe me unless I show them the diplomas.

Brenda said...

Grammar doesn't matter unless you are writing a term paper. Otherwize their ain't no point ter it.

Ericka said...

Totally with ya sista.

Recovering Noah said...

Oh, honey. If the Grammar Police came around, they would surely arrest me first. I am the QUEEN of comma abuse, hypen abuse, and starting sentences with And and Because. Oh, and fragments, too. (And for proof of all that just read this comment I've just left you.)

AND I have a Master's in English. Scary, huh?

In fact, it'd make me feel a lot better if you would make a ton of mistakes in your posts - because right now they're pretty darn perfect. :-)

Recovering Noah said...

Can't forget that I don't know how to spell, either.

It's hyphen - not hypen. Ugh.

ali said...

Lexapro sucks tooooooooo!!!
love, ali

Sean's Ladies said...

In college, there was a professor that was doing a study on typo's. He was showing how the fingers will be essentially 'pre-tying' what they think your brain is wanting to say. I don't know how it turned out, but I always think about that when I make an error!!

Your colloquial writing makes you relatable! Thanks for being imperfect with the rest of us.

califmom said...

I too tried Cymbalta and ended up back on Zoloft. Thank you for giving me a reason to explain my complete inability to spell now. I have always been a great speller, good with the grammar. Now, it's like I'm 8 and can't get my crap together. BTW I also loved saying Cymbalta...made me conjure up images of salsa dancing.

Kristen said...

Suddenly I am craving some Cymbalta . . . that sounds lovely.

Sara said...

In our house we call it "fibro fog" (because fibromialgia comes with its own mental fogginess...and so I will be the last to throw stones. Oh yes ma'am I will.