Never Leave Me Blue, Susie-Q

I knew she was trouble the moment I laid eyes on her. I’d dropped by Doc’s place, a shit hole rental in a shit hole complex with cracking plaster and smudgy windows. It was Saturday and the usual goons were lining up outside. Humid Day. My back was getting sticky. I was anxious to get out, so I tossed the cash on the desk and made to leave. The dust was still settling when he stepped close. He smelled of attics and whiskey.

-You got a girl?

-Sure

-Yeah? Well ya ain’t got one like this

He scrawled something on scrap paper, pushed it in my pocket. I left. I took the long way back, needed time to sort things. I crushed the ratty bit of greasy paper in my fist, pulled back for a fastball and the rain started. I jogged through the slick and took shelter at the local druggist’s. There she was, noctilucent ivory under rowed fluorescents. I had to have her.

And I did. Quetiapine, or Seroquel for short, has been my lady of the night for nearly a week now; when she doesn’t put me to sleep, she gets me high. My body fills with lead and my head with clouds for a mildly euphoric electrochemical storm. It isn’t unpleasant, but it comes on slow and catches me off guard. Oh, and then there’s the hallucinations. They have the same flavor as the hypnagogic hallucinations a younger, less responsible, me experienced on tired night drives. Specifically, I’ve been conjuring x-ray vision. It’s pretty fucking cool, if unsettling. The best was was when I saw through the entire house, to the street. An accurate representation too, save for the wrong perspective, in light of being in the basement at the time.

My memory continues to deteriorate. Short term thoughts escaping with increasing proficiency. Words too. I’ll be able to think all around them, but it can take half an hour to push them out from the tip of my tongue. I’ve had to start eating when I’m not hungry. I didn’t think the appetite change was a big deal, until I stepped on the scale and saw I was dropping weight like an anchor in friendly port. No thanks to Provigil, I’m sure. Ironically, I almost didn’t take it for fear of dramatic weight gain.

One more thing. I always do some research before I start a new drug, wikipedia at least, but I don’t read every word in one go. Today I noticed the very last section in the quetiapine article: Addiction and Abuse. Crap. Though I don’t intend to snort “quell” anytime soon, and experiences on erowid lead me to believe the recreational possibilities are minimal, I do not enjoy the prospect of being hooked on anti-psychotics, atypical or not.

Bottom line, Seroquel, I really like her, but I’m not sure things are going to work out.