[ WP ] A new antidepressant is launched . It does the job , but it radically changes who you are and what you like to do . People who take it like their new personality and who they 've become . Their ( former ) friends miss the original person .

Nobody knows how it really works. It had been around for a long time, and used medicinally up until the people realized it's potential to ruin someone's life in the eighteen hundreds. 
 There are four active chemicals that we know of that alter the brain chemistry. We're not entirely sure of how it happens, and how addictive it is. 
 My friend's name is John. He used to be my suite mate in college. John could destroy at super smash bros. This one time, we got wasted on alcohol, and we played smash bros for seven hours. He won nearly every round. He called fox his `` main.'' 
 I never knew he was depressed. Some days he would hole himself up in his room, playing pink floyd and crying. The walls were very thin and the music was n't as loud as he thought. But I'm not one to pry into the personal life of someone. 
 I forgot about his problems, though, and things carried on as normal. We tried shrooms on a mountain hike during a lazy weeekend, and watched the trees bend and shimmer, only to forget there were trees in the forest at all. 
 After our trip, we headed back to my car and just sat there. 
 John turned to me. His eyes were a dull grey I could only find in a cloudy day or in true sadness. His pupils bent in and showed forever. 
 `` I hate myself. I hate myself so much and I do n't know what I'm going to do in the next few weeks.'' 
 I did n't understand his cry for help until John's depression reached a peak in our third quarter when John attempted to commit suicide. He was placed on a watchlist, and spent the following three days uneasily recovering in a hospital. After that, he had to talk with two doctors regularly. He talked about his feelings with a psychologist, and he talked about his brain with a psychiatrist. 
 Two days after he started therapy, he was prescribed a new anti-psychotic that had just been put on the market. 
 This drug had been contested for decades. In the 1970's there were panels to discuss its legality, and protests to abolish it from the market completely. While it does relieve a lot of depression symptoms, it also makes the user sluggish, and forgetful. It drains them of their motivation, and messes with their circadian rhythm. They have no energy. 
 John was happy. But he was n't John, anymore. 
 I recently got back in contact with John after he took a quarter off of college to get more of his life back together. He told me he took a job as a fry cook. He said it was hard finding a job that would allow him to medicate while working, but the fast food industry seemed indifferent about the mental status of their employees. 
 I spent the night with him at his apartment. I asked if he wanted to drop acid, and he said he was content with his anti-depressional drug. I was concerned. This drug could n't possibly be safe to use regularly like alcohol or adderal. He was probably addicted by this point. 
 We sat down on his grungy couch which creaked when more than one person sat on it, and he turned on his gamecube to play some smash bros. 
 For the first time ever, I beat him at his best. It was n't even close. He was sluggish. He was laughing the entire time as I pulled combo after combo. He had once been the undisputed king of smash bros in our group, and now here he was. Content with failure. Happy to live under the bar. Excited to get beaten time and time again. It was sickening. 
 I set the controller down and I stood up. 
 `` John. Marijuana is ruining your life. You are clearly addicted, and you need professional help.'' 
 John looked up, eyes redder than the surface of mars. His face mimicked the tone of his confused expression. 
 `` What?'' 
 I looked at the fast food wrappers and pizza boxes. 
 `` This whole addiction. You're slower, and you're less fun. You were better when you were normal, you know. We could go on a hike and stare at the trees. We could go to a party and dance. But you have been holed in your room, just smoking weed and..'' My voice wavered. 
 `` It's not you, John. It is n't you.'' 
 John's expression froze. it took his brain a few seconds to comprehend what I had said. Clearly this weed was effecting his ability to think clearly. When he finally understood what I had said, he gave a slight chuckle. The chuckle turned to uproarious laughter. He was nearly sobbing in fits. He looked up to me and said with no hints of sarcasm of jokingness, `` You are so full of shit, bro.'' Promptly after he said this, he keeled over and died. 
 If John had just admitted he had an addiction to a gateway drug, maybe he might have been able to get help, but he let the mary jane get the best of him. 
 If you or someone you know are struggling with marijuana addiction, please call the *Above the influence marijuana addiction hotline* at 5552324614. If you believe a friend has overdosed on marijuana, do not hesitate to call 911. Calling promptly could save lives.
