A Sure Sign the World's in the Toilet...or is it just our heads?

So I've been trying to find a psychiatrist in Los Angeles, I need to get these meds adjusted. The anxiety has started to distort my world and is causing me quite a bit of misery. Ron's not having a good time with it, either. In my quest for a prescribing doctor, I've discovered that getting an appointment before next year is like trying to find a pearl earring at the bottom of the ocean. It seems that the majority of Los Angeles area and surrounding counties is on some sort of anti-depressant. I wonder if it's a West Coast thing because there are so many pansy, emotionally sensitive artists living here. We all need a boost in our sagging self esteem during these increasingly difficult times. I'm sure the United States as a whole is dotted with many mentally struggling individuals, hell I've read it on so many blogs! I find it alarming that there are so many people who can't cope without the help of drugs, prescribed or not, myself included. What the fuck is going on?? Is the world really that shitty?

I think it has to do with the fact that emotional disorders are indeed hereditary and are often passed on down the line, unbeknownst to parents. Many just don't think that far ahead. Maybe they think their fantastic and amazing parental skills will somehow erase the generations of mental illness. It's this delusional thinking that's contaminated the gene pool with so many head cases. We are all suffering from some mass Stockholm Syndrome, our captor being our own fucked up minds.

It's time to pick up the phone and try yet another doctor, one I went to about 10 years back. He might be able to squeeze me in by Thanksgiving. He must be patting himself on the back plenty, with all those hundred dollar bills, for getting into his chosen profession. It looks like we're always going to need ourselves a good head shrinker.