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My Lexapro Diary

 Sometimes, my shrink suggests that I ought to "up" my Lexapro dosage. This tends to come as a surprise to me.


I might be telling a story along these lines: "And then I just said to the postal carrier...Thanks for your concern. FUCK YOU."

Mildly, my shrink will say, "You advised a postal carrier to fuck off? You know, your dosage is quite low....There is no harm in an adjustment...."

More recently, I have become involved in a silent war with a mysterious neighbor. There is a steep private road next to my house, and if you turn off the main road, you may encounter another vehicle seeking egress from the private road. The road can't fit two cars, so someone needs to budge. It seems to me that there is an unwritten law: If you're leaving the private road, you just back up, you "give ground," because this is much easier to do than retreating onto the main, public road, where traffic is trying to fly by. One of my neighbors made the strange choice to disobey this rule, so I made a mature move: I gave him an intense "death stare." The showdown recurred--!--so, once again, I brought out my death stare. I am so disturbed by this violation of a (fictional) rule that I spend many minutes reviewing the scene, and I visit "Reddit" discussions to try to calm myself down.

But I'm still on the low dosage of Lexapro. Right. I know. I, too, would hesitate to take myself as a patient.
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