I just wanted to say, your MIL rocks. 
And if she needs help getting rid of the bodies, having them turn up somewhere she has demonstrably never been would be a real help in any hypothetical court case. 
Could you have not illustrated your point any other way than by linking to a video of a horrific accident between two horses? Is there some sort of allegorical connection to the OP?
Because of the “bad press,” as you said, and the fact that it was the first of its class, and because it quickly became the punchline to many a lame joke (“jeez pal, what’s the matter—forget to take your Prozac?”) there seems to be a lingering public perception that there’s something uniquely sinister about the drug, but it’s not markedly different from any number of other SSRIs that people take enthusiastically and which seldom appear in the monologues of bad comedians.
Mostly what Chimera said. Also:
According to the principles of the First Church of Groo, he who pretends to speak the word of the Lord and places himself beside Him is a sinner and shall receive a mighty big smiting. Any member of the flock who appears to be opening up a can of whup-ass on the sinner is actually carrying out the Lord’s will.
So, if this guy ever tries to speak to your wife again, don’t worry if you find yourself performing a full body check on him – you have no choice, and these are not your actions anyway. BTW - in a radical departure from all other religions, in my church, anything you agree with is by definition a Good Work of the Lord, and anything you disagree with is by definition the result of Satan’s ministrations.
Other than spreading the good word, I’d also like to add that no one has an obligation in any way to keep assholes in their lives. The real solution is to not bother even remembering that this guy exists – he’s out.
That’s right. It was the first “happy pill” and there was also a tendency toward suicide reported at that time, which, as it turns out, goes for many/most antidepressants, particularly when prescribed for teens. But (which I wasn’t, but this was waaaay long ago) that’s the last thing you want to hear when you’re having an episode.
It’s too bad, too. Actually of the half dozen or so antidepressants I’ve been prescribed, it had the least amount of side effects (none, for me). I mean, when you’re not feeling well, who needs additional shit to deal with? The whole dry mouth thing is UNACCEPTABLE for me, and this wasn’t a problem with prozac.
Dry mouth? I’d consider that the least of possible negative side-effects.
Back in 1988, I went to a shrink for the first time after some really bad shit in my life and got put on something I can no longer recall the name of. It not only made my urine extremely yellow and rich in particulates, but it made me leak (and I’m a man). Imagine all your pants and underwear stained dark yellow in front, having to wash the hell out of them, and having to pad your crotch with absorbent materials to try to prevent it. Oh, and it smelled too.
:eek:
When I went back to the fucker to get off them, he refused and stated that he wanted to leave me on them for another six months, because he thought it was working. Despite the nasty ill effects on my social life, which were much worse than any depression I was going through.
I refused, walked out the door, flushed the meds and never went back. Took me another 13 years before I would consider going to any kind of therapist or mental health professional.
In the end, it comes down to the advice I’d developed in regards to any professional, whether that be Medical or Otherwise;
Professionals work for you.
If they don’t work for you, find another.
Amen on that! I just wish more people would use that attitude when dealing with their professional associations. (Medical, legal, financial, and dental all come to mind.)
It may not be a big deal for some, but for me I had to be pulling a non-stop sip of something, every second, or my mouth turned into the Sahara Desert. It was horrible. It wasn’t the only side effect, but it was the only one I couldn’t deal with.
To extend the hijack a little further: I think that ultimately, the only person who should be considered capable of being the final judge of what is and is not an acceptable side-effect of a medication is the person taking that medication. I wouldn’t care to have suffered either of the side effects mentioned by Kalhoun or by Chimera. It doesn’t matter that there may be a worse road out there if someone cannot deal with the one their on, already.
Psssst … As a depressive with a deep and abiding respect for drugs, I would like to preach a bit about vigorous exercise. It can keep one steady until the medication kicks in, it has (for me) a synergistic effect with medication, and it gives one a sense of control over the situation.
And I want to be your mother-in-law when I grow up.
Exactly. There’s a lot of people like that. And if it’s not theology it’s something else equally fuckwitted. Beating a fuckwit (literally or figuratively) just makes them cling that much more desperately onto some totally fucked up shit so that they can protect their egos. The best you can do is try to separate them from anyone you can who might be hurt by their fuckwankery.