My shrink has suggested Lexapro.
This is because I told a long, long story about an Irishman who committed murder. The man was a dilettante; he believed he was destined for intellectual pursuits. When his funds dried up, he couldn't bear the thought of holding down some kind of quotidian "clerk" job. So he slaughtered two strangers, in an effort to rob a bank.
"I like to think about mental health vitamins," said my shrink. "Just a little assistance. If you're climbing a mountain, you're going to take some oxygen in a tank, am I correct?"
I have a favorite joke about depression. The source is Aparna Nancherla. In stand-up, Nancherla says, "Sometimes, I just feel sad for no reason...." And she smiles. "Eventually...I....I just....I start to remember the reasons...."
I do think I ought to hop on-board the Lexapro Train. That's not really because of my shrink. It's because of my spouse, who is outspoken, and who tends to want to interrogate big new ideas. Is occupational therapy a necessity? And a third weekly speech session? Given various doctor fees, should we really keep the thought of a "fall break" on the table? ....This type of question did not arise when the word "Lexapro" came up. The spousal response I received was: "Yep, good idea."
That's where we are for now.
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