My mother was quite progressive in her taste in music. The first album I remember her turning me on to was, In-a-godda-da-vida, by Iron Butterfly. That kinda knocked me for a loop. Then she brought home the Steppenwolf album featuring the song 'The Pusher', a song about an addict damning his drug dealer. I never thought I would ever associate the song with my Dr., but he is no more than a drug dealer, as I'm beginning to think most Drs. are. They put you on a drug and send you out the door knowing that it is going to put you face down in the dust. Then when you come back to them complaining that you don't like being dinged out all the time, they act upset that you didn't like their "cure". I never was one that liked the downer type of drugs, I always wanted something to get me up, keep me awake to party more. This Seroquel has turned my brain to mush. I can't think, I'm not interacting with people, my wife included, and I basically feel like a blob of poo. I'd rather have high highs and low lows than to be stuck in a constant low. And to top it off, the sleep that I am getting is restless, nightmarish sleep that leaves me tired anyway. Add to that, the high dose of Naproxen that I'm on for my arthritis is tearing my stomach up. Something has to change. I'm to a point where I think it's time to throw away all the drugs, clean my system out, and start over. Can you say cold turkey? Look out world, the bitch is coming back.