Fuck Geodon
If my words mean something to you, and you’re in a position to give, it means a lot. Your kindness helps me keep showing up to create.I don’t know if every college did this, but Western had a “college sleepover experience” the summer before freshman year. Two days before the sleepover, I started a new medication. Geodon. FUCK GEODON. One of the worst. It made my skin crawl. I felt sweatier than usual, a little off-balance, like I was watching myself from the wrong angle. But I figured I could ride it out.
Then came the morning of the sleepover.
I was in the shower, shampooing my hair, when suddenly everything went black. Not metaphorically. My vision cut out, instantly, like someone yanked a cord. My ears started ringing—a sharp, rising frequency that swallowed the sound of the water. I overheated fast. My skin flushed hot. My chest tightened. I couldn’t get enough air. My hands tingled, then went numb around the edges.
I tried to stay calm. Thought maybe I was dreaming. Slapped my face a few times. Pinched my arms. Reached out, turned the faucet to cold, and let the frozen water blast against me. Nothing changed.
So I sat down on the floor of the shower. Shampoo dripping into my eyes. I curled up and waited.
Just when I was about to yell for help, light started returning to my eyes. First, shapes. Then color. Sound returned like static tuning in. I could breathe again. Sort of. Within ten minutes, I could see again. My body felt like it had been unplugged and hastily rewired, but I was functional. Off, but standing.
We were late, and I got yelled at, but I didn’t tell my mom. She wouldn’t have let me go to the sleepover, and I would always choose an opportunity to get out of the house.
Of course, I didn’t enjoy the sleepover or make any new friends. I couldn’t relax. I spent the whole time waiting for it to happen again.
Mid-sentence.
In a crowded room.
While I was laughing.
While someone was looking at me.
So I didn’t speak unless I had to.
Staying near the edges was my safest bet.
