Celexa and benadryl

Sorry but no judge is going to give him custody just because she gave her kids Benadryl. And the revenge was 2 pages, longer then her affair.

Finishing my comment, my problem with your story is that I'm reading it before boarding my American Airlines flight to Arizona. What a great time to find this great story. I'll need an extra Benadryl for this one.

So the part about drugging the kids, remember the affair has been going on for about a year. Go look up the prolonged effects of using Benadryl. Not fries your liver sort of thing but definitely something the kids should not be subjected to. She got off way too easy. There should be criminal charges for this and the grandfather should be charged as an accessory.

I have been suffering with a form of depression called Cyclethemia(not sure of the spelling) almost all my life. I have been on CELEXA and it works very well, except after taking it for a few years I began to lose all my sex drive. I discontinued taking the drug, but now I have decided to start taking the drug as I feel that at my age (59) I would rather feel good and treat everyone good rather than worry about being able the want sex.

Drugging the kids and John didn't immediately intervene and confront her and the father before ther next fuckfest? Yes, I know that the author wanted the dramatic confrontation, but in real world, John has a parental duty to protect the children and prevent further drugging of the children, especially since the story suggests that wife is giving larger doses of Benadryl in order to keep them knocked out. And why doesn't he report her to the police? Why does he not prohibit any contact with the slut? She is a danger to them and even in hell-holes like the Caifornia courts, most judges would issue either a no contact order or at the least, supervised visits. So, shocking premise that is pretty well done but husband is way too nice to the slut.

too much of the I don't know why I did that and the drugging of the kids was a bit nasty bit of child abandonment. I think Lynn's settlement and consequences should have been more harsh. Judge should have delivered a harsh and foul humiliating diatribe on how unfit Lynn was to be a mother and order counselling. I'd hope a judge or some child protective services would have prevented visitation over the wife's Benadryl babysitting habit until see completed some humiliating counselling.
The father, he got no consequences out of this really. He only ran away like a coward and lost some money. Should have at least had him cut off by his friends or had some of them kick his ass when they suspected or found out he was fucking one of their wives.
Probably should be in a different category but at least there was a little sex in it. Tag it with BTB too.

As a chronic depressive, I had to learn some very painful lessons on the way to dealing with my depression. Denial is a very formidable enemy. It takes a lot of guts to admit that you're sick, particularly with an affliction for which society is more than happy to stigmatize you. Understanding why you no longer like to do the things you previously enjoyed doesn't come easy. Dealing with some of the syndromes associated with chronic depression like low anger threshold, sleep deprivation and logical function disorder is terribly difficult because they complicate your treatment and make a bad health situation worse.
The pills aren't necessarily the answer, despite what the pharmaceutical industry would like us to believe. At least they weren't for me. My psychiatrist tried three different medications in the two and a half years I was under her care, those being Celexa, Welbutrin and Prozac. The first two gradually lost their therapeutic value to me as mood stabilizers, and Prozac is nothing more than cruel and unusual punishment invented by some sicko in the pharmaceutical industry. Imagine life in a neurochemical visegrip of mood neutrality, no ups, no downs, just a flatline like you're a zombie. That's a glimmer of what being on Prozac is like.
Don't get me wrong: the medications helped me but the cognitive therapy techniques that my other doctor, a physiopsychologist, taught me helped me more. I agree with a previous poster who said, Don't be afraid of alternative methods. because frankly the shrinks and psycho witch doctors don't have all the answers. I'm a scientist by training and disposition, and throughout my life, I have always been a very forceful personality. That's why denial was such a problem for me. I became severely depressed in 1998 when a lifelong friend committed suicide due to job stress. His suicide almost pushed me over the edge with him, and I struggled for three years, denying that I was sick, using willpower and brute force to overcome chronic low moods to keep on keeping on. It took me seriously contemplating suicide to realize that I needed professional help. I was lucky because I was able to get that help, though my long delay ended up costing me my career when I became so depressed that I could no longer do my job and was let go.
My physiopsychologist came to understand much of what makes me tick. He showed me the distortions in my EEG from the fault in my brain's neurochemistry. He explained how that fault causes my moods to spiral down and stay down. He put me in a frame of mind where I knew I could beat the disease if I acted positively instead being a passive victim. Best of all, he helped me deal with the stigma of chronic depression. I'll never forget his words: We don't damn people who suffer a heart attack or fall victim to cancer because they're sick, do we? Chronic depression isn't any different. It's a physical ailment and there is no reason, none, that we should look down on the victims of depression any more than we do the victims of cancer. That meant a lot to me because my self-esteem had been trashed by depression. It helped me put matters in perspective, and now I spit in the general direction of anyone who makes light of depression and suggests that It's all in your head. Strangely enough, they're right -- it is all in your head -- but they haven't a clue what they're talking about. Ignore them because they're ignorant.
I remained under my psychologist's care for another year and a half until he and I agreed that we had done all we could together. My condition is better today but I'm not cured. I doubt that I will ever be cured of the affliction. I don't have that many bad days any more, and I have some good days every now and again. I'm off all anti-depressants. My diet is better and, while I don't exercise as much as I should, my daily walk does help. My psychologist told me that as I got older, my condition might improve with age because your brain chemistry continues to change. I think he's right.
Want to know what I really miss? Having a beer. Anyone who's seriously depressed should avoid alcohol completely. I've seen what alcohol does to a healthy person's EEG, and it's not pretty. When you're depressed, imbibing takes a bad situation and turns it into a mental trainwreck. But while I miss a brew at the end of the day, I don't miss feeling so depressed that nothing matters. That emptiness I hope I never experience again.
I leave you with some sobering statistics, no pun intended. It is estimated that twenty-five million Americans suffer from depression in one form or another. I've no doubt that many of those cases are mild but consider this: one of every twelve Americans suffers from this form of mental illness. There's a good chance that you know someone who is a victim of depression. Still think it's all in our heads? Think again.
Thank you, Emerald_Dragon, for a thoughtful essay on a very painful subject.