The Newtown Pentacle

Anxiety is my anti-drug, as is malingering.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Ever drink too much coffee? Caffeine-induced anxiety disorder is a subclass of the DSM-5 diagnosis of substance/medication-induced anxiety disorder (DSM-5 is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition, which is the bible of mental health providers in the United States, and our associates). It manifests in the form of panic attacks and generalized anxiety. Caffeine will be absorbed almost entirely into the blood stream in about forty five minutes, and it has a half life of two and a half to four and half hours in normal adults. It generally makes people somewhat antagonistic, which explains a lot about the morning rush hour, by my reckoning.

It’s a vasoconstrictor, which is why it wakes people up and also causes them to poop. If you drink enough coffee, you can develop a cardiac arrhythmia, insomnia, and experience mood fluctuations. If you’re on medications like Xanax, or have anti-anxiety prescriptions for drugs such as benzodiazepines, caffeine can chemically interact with them in bad ways.

I’ve always been positively paranoid about cell necrosis and cytotoxicity, as a note.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Full of shame, living in squalor, hoarding animals, and generally feeling apathetic about the whole shebang? You might suffer from Diogenes syndrome, therefore. Named for a minimalist Greek scholar who lived in a jar and masturbated in public, it’s also known as “senior squalor syndrome.” Diogenes was a cynic, which also used to be a “thing,” but I’m not sure how the masturbation figured into things. Yuck.

The world is a scary place, so much so that some people suffer from Encopresis – a psychological and physical condition wherein you hold onto your poop until the inevitable occurs and you need a new pair of pants. A common remedy for being in an excited state would be to pour out an alcoholic drink and “get a hold of yourself,” but then you’re dancing with Korsakoff’s syndrome as well. Even a waking life lived poorly is preferable to those unavoidable spells which come upon me wherein I pass out and hallucinate.

I like to read the DSM-5 at the witching hour, around three o’clock in the morning, whilst standing wet and naked with my feet immersed in a tub of iced salt water, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. Sometimes, I’ll quaff a glass of boiling hot gin while doing so. You gotta do what you gotta do.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Often, one wonders if he is lost in some Oneirophrenic trance, but I’ve never abused Ibogaine, at least to my knowledge. As mentioned earlier in the week, two gentlemen of the street were having a conversation about some blood drinking reptilian specie whom the Bush family are a part of which I overheard – which made me wonder if perhaps the DEP is adding Ibogaine in the water, and we’re all just collectively dreaming all of this distopia of ours. What is real? Personally, I’ve never been much for the screaming type of madness, as I’m more of a whimperer, but I have been pricing out “the end is nigh” sandwich boards. So far, Amazon has the best price, but I’m trying to spend money locally and support the small businesses of Queens rather than national retailers. 

Back to my tub of ice water and the glass of scalding hot gin…

“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle