Eight weeks after starting a new drug and five after halting intake of an old drug I can truthfully say the thought of an afternoon spent bowling in the company of little children does not fill me with unreasonable horror. While I’d hardly call it “gleeful” (maybe glee sets in after another eight weeks?), it’s lovely to be even partially free from the anhedonia which tried to squat where Cymbalta once lived.
When these small people who share my house leave the house for school in somewhat less than an orderly fashion I can shepherd them out with a joke instead of a snarl. I can fold laundry, unload the dishwasher and clean up the counters before my back starts screaming. No electrical shocks have zapped me in days. I can scoop cat poop while whistling a merry tune.
Well, maybe not that last one, but I will tell you this: I’ve gotten off every night this week, a feat not seen in the confines of my bedroom in many, many months.
These are good signs, right?
I am grateful for good medical care and the very many friends who have checked in on me. “Is it ok to ask how you’re doing,” they hesitantly question. “We have a business relationship but I read your blog too. I hope this is not intrusive.” Of course not, I assure them. If I write about it then I’m cool with you knowing about it, unless you’re one of the approximately five people I’ve asked not to read but who probably don’t listen anyhow. Thank you for checking in on me, everybody. It has made a huge difference; you should continue to do so with the knowledge that it’s not upsetting and that, as always happens in these situations, adversity draws close people who otherwise might not have connected.
Conversely I am sorry — deeply sorry — for the one relationship that failed to survive the upheaval.
Now all I can do is wait and hope that the new medication will keep working and that the side effects won’t be unmanageable, because I’d really like to continue to face afternoons spent bowling with little children with something other than dread and horror.
[Note -- this entry was edited after posting by admin]
*hugs* As someone who’s been on anxiety and depression meds off and on for ten years now, I’m familiar with the rollercoaster. You’ve had a rough few months, and I think you deserved a little more from a guy you’d been seeing for three years.
I’m so glad you’re feeling better-ish. I’ve been worrying about you but afraid to say anything…
Are you serious?
Just yesterday, I was wondering how the two of you were doing. You hadn’t posted anything about him for quite awhile. Isn’t it a strange world we live in where we think about people we’ve never met, but consider them vicarious friends?
Seems a bit harsh, if you ask me. And, AAG, in my experience, it’s only over after a length of time has past. In the early stages, there’s no telling what comes next.
I am on Welbutrin, which has kept me sane the past two months. I hope not to have to take it forever, but I’m grateful for it right now.
I’m sorry about the relationship. It’s difficult to be on the other end of this, I imagine (I rely on Wellbutrin to keep me normal (ish) so I know what your side is like). But I also imagine that you are well worth it.
My praises to you for spending an entire afternoon doing activities with small children. Well, I’m actually in awe. No matter how good the medication, I couldn’t do that. YAY! for you!
Ending a fairly-long term relationship because you had some issues for awhile is shallow an pathetic. I’d like to say I’m sorry for the harsh words but I’m not. Dealing with my own medication issues.
It was actually only a couple hours. :)
And there’s always hope for a peaceable resolution. No harsh words are necessary.
I’m glad to hear things are looking up for you, AAG, and know that I’m always here if you need to talk. I think all of your readers and friends, including myself, certainly want to be supportive and helpful as you go through difficult and happy times alike. In any case, I’m happy things are better in general — and I’m sure they’ll continue to get better.
Hey AAG. It’s wonderful that you survived without the brain zaps. I didn’t and much worse depending on which psychopharmaceutical I was melting off of. I work in pharma research too and when I read the package inserts knowing full well there are tons and tons of freaky side effects they don’t have to list I get pretty incensed. And the sexual side effects. Good god almighty.
Anyway, best of luck with the new meds. I’ve been drug free and sane(ish) for over 2 years now. It is a possible outcome. Promise.
No no, I *had* brain zaps. They are finally gone. :)
I saw your unedited post. I don’t know if this makes it easier or harder, but I would think it very unlikely that a relationship that had lasted for some time would run aground over two months of medically-induced weird by one party. I would think that it’s more likely that it had run its course for other reasons, which is just one of those very painful things that life drops on our heads every once in a while.
I have faith in you to weather the mourning period, and am quietly confident that you will meet someone lovely once you have.
That may have been the case for our romantic involvement. I’m hopeful that we can stay friends.