What might it say about a culture that embraces so familiarly and with such farce the cure while estranging and patronizing the illness? While I won't answer this now, I wanted to paint this in the light it emits by provocatively invoking some number of rapid comparisons and panicked emergency references to Freud 101 in your minds, hopefully in conjunction with some self-reflection. If we reflect upon our culture and think of the concepts of "cure" and "illness", images of some biomedical intervention or brand name drug would naturally emerge. America widely regards allopathic medicine as the automatic treatment method. Though that particular part of our culture has certainly saved lives (although surely did kill some as well) it has also fostered an unhealthy national dedication to pharmaceuticals. While that dedication supports a multi-billion dollar industry, which hasn't exactly earned accolades, it also has prompted necessary adjustments in our culture in order to make meaning of such a phenomenon possible.
Let's look to Prozac, the re-awakening to the treatment of depression. Since Eli Lilly released Prozac in 1986, we've been smitten with those sleek green and white capsules with the peppy name. Prozac became America's sunshine in a bottle and was soon dubbed the "happy pill" and followed by countless clones with even more off label uses.
While I can't quite put my finger on why pills are taking on such pluralistic meanings so rapidly I will point out that it isn't all pills taking on these roles; aspirin and Lipitor are not as privy to our essence due to their calculated effects on such non-social body parts such as the vascular or gastrointenstinal systems. It's psychopharmaceuticals; a mega-class of drugs that is all about the mind and altering it. This of course includes Prozac, the little SSRI that could, breaking down the walls of depression as well as OCD, PMDD and surely more to come.
I see our close and at times social relationship with psychopharmaceuticals only natural given the biochemical effects on our behavior and personality they have. If Prozac can make someone more out going, surely it must be good conversation at a party and substance for a few jokes. If Xanax makes someone less socially awkward it seems humorous and even cute giving it a now ubiquitous euphemism like "chill pill" (deserving of an entirely new discussion).
Search "happy pills" on Google, you will get over a million hits. Among them we find vindication in the form of a book, Happy Pills in America: From Miltown to Prozac (David Herzberg),vitamin supplements (Brain Pharma), online time-waster game (Pizmo Games), 4 entries in Urban Dictionary, a hip sweets shop (Barcelona), grunge rock album and track (Candlebox) and an amigurumi pattern (EssHaych.blogspot.com).
Happy pills have accrued meanings from clearly many forms of cultural expression. The colloquial expression is primarily referring to psychoactive chemicals in a pill or tablet form. This includes both prescription, medicinally used drugs such as Prozac and Valium as well as illicit pills manufactured for recreational use such ecstasy.
As the name suggests, have to love that American creativity, moods are lifted, suffering diminishes and, albeit subtlety introduced, the notion that one who is “on” happy pills is out of touch with reality because it is of sufficient public knowledge that few are honestly happy and happiness isn’t enough to pay the mortgage and that struggle shapes character. The reality where happiness does come in pill form is a much more seductive and lucrative world, however. Out of this idolizing pseudo-religious trust we put in a relatively easy to assume prescription drug comes the fulfillment of that fantasy as well as the life-world residuals of this dedication such as blatant anthropomorphizing, naming street drugs after them (in pill or non-pill form) and knitting mountains of cross eyed yarn pills that are meant to work on your depression from the outside in.
These bits of material cultural expression, this autonomy we give pills to be their own beings and the way we find them so personable speak archives about the profound impact they’ve had on us. The act of swallowing a happy pill takes trust in the changes that can occur to your precious mood already disrupted, trust in your doctor when he says it can take 4-6 weeks to show improvement, trust of not knowing exactly what kind of reaction you will have. Further, depression leaves you vulnerable and with incertitude. This trust facilitates the casual relationships we form with pills when they effect us on a human level; trust that works itself out through music, word and art.
It must be noted that there exists substantial complaint against pharmaceutical companies and their economic and political conduct. PhRMA (Pharmaceutical Manufacturers Association) is a place to go to learn a little more about the extent of the felt distrust in our society. The Association is quick to argue the importance of the industry and how it is ran. This can't help but shed some light onto the relationship subject of my analysis above, a relationship with recognizable import. Pills are personal things and reach into discrete and intimate moments of our lives. They share with us disorders that aren't socially accepted ailments of conversation. They can also take away our trust with side effects. Nonetheless, they will hold their stance in our personal lives as well as public culture for years to come. Why wouldn't they? They make us "happy"!
