I am going to kill Andrew.

Well, kill might be overstating it. I am not sure one can actually kill a brain defect, perhaps I can only hope to contain him.

I am going to contain Andrew.

Doesnt have the same…flair, but it does smack a bit more of reality.

Now, lets be clear. If there was an operation, where, with a laser or some cool medical toy, I could fix the part of my brain that was damaged before birth I would. My guess as to the origin of the defect? Well, the fact that my biological father was a bit of an imbiber–which is code for never saw a mind altering substance he didnt imbibe–led to the birth of me and my little friend, Andrew. I would sign up in a heart beat and let the sand blasting of my grey matter commence.

But, I cant. So, the only path to correcting the problem is medication. Thats right folks, drugs. A drug addict will have to take drugs for the rest of his life to be normal.

Read that again.

Perhaps there is an ironic t-shirt in there somewhere.

Or not.

So, after years of trying different things, both with (and without) medical advice, I have finally started down the correct path to killing Andrew.

(Yes, I know I cant kill a brain defect. Ever hear of dramatic license?)

On Monday, I was prescribed Seroquel which I was told that at high doses is used to treat schizophrenia, and at moderate doses to treat bipolar disorder, and there were two ways to use it. One, which is how I am using it, is at very low doses, it operates as a mild mood stabilizer and sleep agent. Basically, it makes sure I get a real 8 hours of sleep.

I have never slept for 8 hours in my life. I usually sleep four, and sleep is pretty much an overstatement.

Before I get into how I feel over the past 2 days, here is some more interesting info.

My issue is this: My brain is like an engine with the throttle stuck on. Means I am always revving, and always with a brain full of thoughts. So, my lack of focus isnt because of a lack of thoughts (ADD), but because of too many. So, even in sleep, I always have running thoughts. My dreams are intense, and I dont really ever sleep/relax (toss and turn, wake up frequently, etc.).

The brain uses nothing but sugar to fuel it. So, I often crave sugar and simple carbs because I need to fuel this engine with a stuck throttle. Hence the additional weight I carry and inability to lose. The by product of this is increased insulin in my system, which requires more sugar to regulate. I am almost like a diabetic without diabetes.

Those two facts answer so many of the issues I have faced my whole life. Its almost comforting to know them.

What about killing Andrew?

Right, so this Seroquel is taken at night, prior to sleep. It helps me sleep soundly for 8 hours and calms my brain. I dont toss and turn when I sleep. Monday night I took 25mg (a very small dose indeed). Thirty minutes later, I was sound asleep. Eight hours later, I woke up with extremely sore muscles (apparently lactic acid builds up in them if I dont move while sleeping), and a huge red spot on my forehead. I suppose it was from sleeping in the same position for an extended time.

I felt really refreshed, but my brain was cloudy. It took a while to clear my head and be able to think coherently. And, for most of the day, I felt very calm with little bothering me.

Now, the doctor told me that like a engine with a stuck throttle, when one unsticks the throttle, the engine begins to idle correctly, but its still overheated for a time. For me, that means my “Active” state (lots of random thinking, talking, etc.) would be reduced significantly, but my “Depressed” state (irritability, headaches, paranoia, xenophobia) would continue for some time. That, in fact, I would think I was depressed, when I really wasnt.

Trust me, intellectually, that sounds workable.

So Monday, everything was cool, and a popped another pill Tuesday night. Again, slept well, woke up with muscle soreness and mind cloudiness (which, by the way normal people, is that how you wake up every day? Man, that must suck.) and as the day progressed, I began to feel more and more under the weather. I headed home early, head hurting, nose runny.

But as the afternoon progressed, I realized that the calm feeling from the previous day continued, that the rapid thoughts were held at bay, but the depressed state had hit like a ton of bricks. So, I did what I always do, I retreated to a dark room after having to run some errands, and slept.

And while I felt like I had won day one, Andrew kicked my ass on day two.

But, I was told to expect this, and therefore, I will continue on.

And Andrew, you will die. Oh you will.

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