Can you take Ambien and Zantac together

US trend anxiety reliever: Xanax - dangerous emotional anesthesia for stressed people

You're 23 years old and graduated from Ivy League college on the East Coast. You have been an intern at New York's best PR firm for four months. You don't get any money. During the conference call with the hotel customer, your phone vibrates and mom calls. You do not answer She writes: "PAPas state hay slipped away", with all spelling mistakes. "At work" is your answer. "Come home soon, pay your flight. PLEASE!", She writes.

Your boss Carol fixes you over the conference table. She explains the benefits of social media to the customer. Through your face She is good. You know: if you look at your iPhone again, your internship is over.

At noon you go out with the other intern Daniel. Carol hired Daniel yesterday. Daniel started three weeks ago. You sit on the steps in front of the "Smile" café in Soho. You are not hungry. Your heart is racing and you start to howl. Daniel gives you a Xanax. You wash them down with his iced coffee. You go back to the agency. You feel better". Actually, you don't feel anything.

Doctor Morozov's number

You're writing a blog entry for the hotel client's website. Your boss Carol calls you to her office. She deleted the entry. What is going on. You would suddenly write like a bureaucrat. She hates you You promise to rephrase the entry. You try to smile Carol is sweating on her upper lip. She advises you to rethink your wardrobe. You stay cool. It is Friday.

You call Alan who you slept with a couple of times in college. Alan has been on Xanax for years. He doesn't want to give you any because he's scarce himself. He'll give you the number of Doctor Boris Morozov, his shrink. You will get an appointment immediately, Friday evening. You reel off your ready-made monologue: sudden panic attacks, racing heart, fear that has been attacking you again and again lately.

Doctor Boris interrupts you. He'll prescribe you thirty 0.5 milligram Xanax tablets "for now". His Russian accent is so strong that you won't understand his joke. He laughs at it himself. You should come back when you need supplies. Fifteen minutes later you are back on the street.

You are considering dyeing your hair orange

You hand in your prescription at the pharmacy and have to wait. You are considering dyeing your hair orange. You think of James Holmes, the Aurora gunman who sat in the courtroom with orange hair, and you decide against it. You take the subway to Crown Heights. Chloé and you are the only white people in the brick building. There are always a few guys hanging out in front of it who let their pants hang far below their ass cheeks. It is a mystery to you why your pants don't fall all the way.

One of them tells you to stop worrying. He knows your first name even though you've never introduced yourself to him. He's got you on his radar, he says, spreading his fingers to the "V". Then he pans the "V" across the street like a camera. Your bag was stolen the other day. The boy adjusts his pants, laughs funny and walks away.

In the apartment, Chloé paints her nails light green. Chloé is 19, very thin, very tall and has wide-set alien eyes. She models. You found her on Craigslist. She is from Minnesota and was raped by a couple of boys in her village. She was high Her parents forbade her to go to the police. Chloé's father knows a few people at the Hell’s Angels who would take care of that.