Anti-depressants for Turkish PM
BELGİN AKALTAN - firstname.lastname@example.orgMy doctor put me on anti-depressants. (It would be really nice if you stopped laughing.) Yes, my new doctor prescribed anti-depressants for me. I don’t know why. He asked me meaningless questions; I gave him equally meaningless answers. Then among the other seven pills he prescribed (five of which I was already taking), he said I should also take anti-depressants. I remember asking why and I remember him telling me, but I don’t remember his answer. (This last sentence sums up my life story. If I were a better listener in life and had a longer attention span, well, then you wouldn’t be reading this piece…)
The next time I visit a doctor’s office, I will take an assistant with me. (When I do have an assistant.) So that he or she (Oh, I want a male assistant, preferably young) can take notes for me. I take notes myself but I cannot read my handwriting afterward.
I kind of remember the doctor saying that it was for general well-being, to regulate my sleep and to lessen my anxiety – which the doctor thinks I have and I don’t think I have.
I will ask him in detail next time I visit him (which will be soon) and share it with you. Why on earth did he give me anti-depressants? Does he think I’m unhappy?
I started taking the pill. It has been six or seven days. You can’t imagine the changes I’ve been going through. Nothing seems to bother me. I have no hard feelings for anyone. Nobody can get on my nerves. I have a smile on my face, which I actually always have with or without the pill. (I love it when you believe whatever I write.) I laugh; I make jokes – more than the usual amount. In those cases when I would normally start a row in the office with my selected favorite ones, I am – surprisingly – calm, I take things easily and I solve problems instead of nagging or making scenes… Generally, I am able to see the bigger picture. I don’t know if this is the effect of anti-depressants or not, but really, life is beautiful…
When it was time to write my piece, all of a sudden it dawned on me: Has anybody thought of prescribing anti-depressants for the prime minister? To make him happier, calmer, more easy-going, balanced… So that he could see the bigger picture.
When did you last see the prime minister smile? When did you last see him happy? I am thinking
hard and it is limited to those times that he was talking to kids and when he was holding a baby or something like that… He always has a nervous smile, and that’s the only positive sign in his daily routine. He is always tense. Poor guy. Now I feel sorry for him.
I suggest that the PM be put on anti-depressants also. I don’t know how the chemistry of the brain works, but certain brains can use additional chemicals. Mine surely does. I’m wondering if the PM’s does, too. (Note to the public prosecutor in charge of the media: This is not mockery. I am genuinely considering what might be best for the PM because this pill has proven to be helpful for me. I want to share my well-being with the PM.) As I said, I believe there is something chemically wrong in the brains of those continuously unhappy people (that would cover the entire Turkish nation), those people in deep depression (that would constitute 90 percent of the entire Turkish nation), those people who feel like they are at the bottom of a dark well (that would include a good percentage of Turks), and also in those souls who have an inexplicable sense of… (well, I said inexplicable, didn’t I? How do you expect me to explain it?) (This last category – that would make only you and me.)
These kinds of pills correct the chemistry in the brain. Without you noticing it, BAM, you are a better person. I am talking from experience. I went through a major depression earlier in life – and calling it a major depression is putting it quite lightly. I regret the time I lost before agreeing to take the medication. I was back to my normal self in one week… That simple…
I’m just imagining the prime minister waking up one morning: He has a mild mood; he talks in soft tones. He kisses his wife; he smiles to his daughter. He holds his cat lovingly. He has his breakfast at Gezi Park talking to young people there. Takes the ferry to Kadıköy, complimenting female passengers on how nice they look. He meets NGO representatives at Kadıköy square. He tells them that every single Turkish policeman and policewoman will undergo intensive training focusing on human rights, especially the riot police. He invites those world-famous celebrities and intellectuals who signed “The Times letter” to Turkey for a weekend in Antalya. He plays beach volleyball with them. He goes to the theater to see Mehmet Ali Alabora’s new play and they pose for photographers afterward, joking with each other…
Oh, fact or fiction, this feels nice…