Recently, my psychiatrist upped the dosage in my two antidepressants, Paxil and Wellbutrin, and so far it’s going quite well.

I feel far ,more focused and energetic. I feel like some of the fog that clings to my mind and makes it so hard to think and remember has lifted and I can feel my own drive and will for the first time in what seems like forever, and overall, I’m feeling much better now.

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I feel like I can handle things now. I might still stumble now and then, but I stand a much better chance to get my poop in a group now that I am fully awake.

At least I think I am fully awake. If there’s a more awake state for me possible, I am not sure I would want to go there. I think it might be kind of scary.

I mean, I probably would be even more hyperintelligent than I am now. I might even be more competent. But I would really be riding the thin and trembling edge of mania, and mania might be fun while it lasts but it’s dangerous as hell.

Especially with a mind like mine. I might go full on supervillain. Insane cackle and all.

So I am feeling much better now, but it’s a cold kind of improvement. I don’t feel any increase in emotional warmth. As far as I can tell, this increase in dosage’s effect is mainly intellectual. The wall between me and the love of the people who care about me is still there. In fact, it feels firmer than ever.

But maybe that’s due to my highly cerebral nature. It may be that there is nothing the drugs can do about that. That will take spiritual and/or psychological growth in order to overcome that deep deep core of animal fear that keeps me from being able to let my guard down and feel comfortable in my own skin.

I want to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to pierce the heart of my depression and melt the ice around my heart so I can let the sunshine in. I want to feel connected and whole and warm. I am tired of being frozen robot with a busted antenna and a lot of broken circuits that keep my parts from forming a full robot.

You know, that gives me a heck of an idea for an existential science fiction story. A robot that is the last of its line of products and therefore a version that was put out just to make the investors happy, and therefore his design was not given much thought and he was more or less just left on his own after activation.

And now he floats in deep space at the very edge of a solar system, getting by on what little sunlight he get from the distant star he orbits. He spends his days monitoring the broadcasts from the solar system’s one life bearing planet, and communicating with other robots via that planet’s networks, and looking at all the things he will never see in person and listening to the music of people he will never meet.

He has to do all this monitoring because when he stops, he starts feeling sad about how he has been abandoned by his makers and left alone to fend for himself when he was never even fully assembled.

But that he does not know is that he was never abandoned. The problem lies in his antenna. It was sabotaged by a cruel robot when he was fresh off the production line, and that made it incapable of picking up the signals of all the robots who care about him who have been calling for him and looking for him this whole time.

It also means that he could not receive the vital heart-signal that reassures all robots that they are connected and functioning and will be there for one another at a moment’s notice.

The busted antenna also makes it so very hard for them to find him in the deep dark expanses of space because it doesn’t respond to their signals. Many robots have sent out the strongest signal they can but still received nothing in response.

Eventually, they gave up. But others took their place.

So what will happen to our sad little robot? Will the other robots find him? Will they be able to fix his broken antenna? Can they finally finish assembling him so he can feel like a whole robot again? And what of the dark forces that broke his antenna in the first place? Are they still out there, lurking, waiting to victimize poor defenseless little robots once more? Has this happened to other robots too? 

Man, do I know how to create an allegory. Obviously, that robot is me, and his tale is mine as seen through a layer of metaphor. I could go on and on, of course, but I think I have indulged myself enough for one night.

Still, that could be the nugget of a very good short animated film. With merchandising opportunities. Imagine how many people would love to have their own sad little robot whose heart glows when you hug him.

Hmmm. I would kind of need an ending, though. A big boffo super happy ending to make up for the pathos. The robot is rescued, repaired, and assembled properly, and taken to a robot hospital where he will be cared for and loved for so he can finally be fully activated.

If only it was that simple in humans!

But no, we have to deal with neurochemistry and all that entails. It’s a little galling to find out that after all my theories blaming all kinds of different things for my miserable state, the whole thing turned out to be merely a case of bad brain chemicals.

Still, the damage remains and I am going to have to fix it or the problems will occur. I have treated the symptoms but the disease remains.

However, I feel far more equipped for that journey that ever before.

And who knows, maybe this new cold power will warm up in time. I remember when I first went on Paxil it made me very numb and disconnected and like my head was floating.

But over time, the feelings came back. And I greeted them with open arms. Even the bad ones. Because it felt so good to really feel again.

Maybe that is what is happening now, and the cold circuit power surge I am enjoying will, in time, warm me up.

Let the sunshine in.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.