What's that you say?
I'm medicated. I take pills every day in order to function. They say it's depression. My body either doesn't create enough serotonin or dopamine or fruit loops on it's own - or it makes too much, so I have to give it some encouragement to settle the hell down.
I'll be taking this stuff for the rest of my life. And while I knew that going in, I was never ready to fully accept the fact that I need help. For without the meds, I see and hear things. Things that aren't there.
I've managed my meds in excess of 10 years. I've only ever missed a med on accident one time. The withdrawal symptoms that followed were terrifying and confusing until I remembered "Oh, yeah. Forgot to take my pill." My senses had gone mad hatter on me, but it was easily fixed.
Right about now, you should be backing away from me with your eyebrows raised and your hands in a defensive position. It's ok. I would too, if I didn't know me like I do.
I know that my life is good and I pass for normal. At least as long as you don't look too closely, or expect particularly lady-like actions from me. I work hard at the office, I play hard whenever I can, sometimes when I'm at the office. My husband is my best friend and ALWAYS he's so good to me that there are times I think I've accidentally skipped a med and he's merely an illusion.
But there are bad times too. Little surprises that reinforce the fact that control is never to be taken for granted. Without getting too graphic, I recently missed a med without missing it. My body, uh.... evacuated some food I ate. And along with it was apparently a sizeable chunk of my time release med.
A night or so later, I awoke in the familiar cold sweat with my heart racing. Wild thoughts and the rubbery feelings all over. I knew this was a symptom of a missed med, but couldn't figure out how that was possible. I also knew I had a little time until things got real bad. The electrical zaps in my head hadn't arrived yet. And this wasn't a run of the mill panic attack.
I went through my days and concluded finally that I must have unwillingly given up too much of my med to the City's sewers. It made sense. I had taken it right before the snack of FAIL.
I took half a dose of my regular med as a replacement and within 24 hours I was right as rain.
And as I'm wont to do, I became a little introspective about my mental health. Why me? Why do I need to go through this? How can I fight something that throws me a curve every once in a while? What if I can't handle the next one? How can Mr. Zoom possibly stand so solidly beside me and accept everything that is me? If I'm crazy, and these meds are the only thing keeping me sane - holy shit.
I am literally, figuratively, clinically - mad.
And for about 3 minutes, I was actually happy being insane. I know it sounds strange, or at least I would think it does, but there was a weird kind of freedom that came with finally accepting that I am a full tilt nut-bar. Because for 3 minutes I didn't care that I need help, that I can't do this on my own, that I have to take medicine to participate in this world. I was what I am and I have a way to deal with it.
I haven't been able to maintain that acceptance, but it was a start. And I'm pretty sure I owe it to that half a cheesecake that I ate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
"It's only after you've lost everything, that you're free to do anything" - Tyler Durden
And as a empathetic and supportive aside, would you be a peach AND TELL ME WHEN YOU'RE ALL WONKY NEXT TIME SO I CAN POSSIBLY HELP INSTEAD OF WAITING TO BLOG ABOUT IT!?
......thanks, that'd be great
Awww, thanks Mr. Zoom. I know. I know. But you had strep and were not only feeling lousy, but conked out on fixable illness medication. I was able to talk myself down, so I didn't give you the military yell that I've done in the past.
And by the time you got better, I was better, and I was so happy to have my buddy, work pal, husband back in action that I totally forgot about my episode.
Ah, wedded bliss. It drives the spider-like jibblies away.
You guys are so cute I want to evacuate my cheesecake. Almost. :-)
Naw, I loves you bofe.
I am the jealous because you have the AWESUM!
There is so much I would say to this but how do you write a look in the eye or a touch of the hand or any of the nonverbals that I want to express as much as the words? Peace is a good thing. Mr. Zoooom is a good thing. Acceptance ~ for however long it lasts ~ is a good thing. Cheesecake is a good thing.
Hugs to you.
Been there, done that. Missed my meds, blogged about it, Hubs read it. Saved me. All was right with the world again.
What you wrote about sounds like Effexor withdrawals to me. That's a pain worse than death, or crazy. When E works, it's great, though. If you ever have to come off it, a little overlap w/Prozac is helpful. And, as you found, even a partial dose is usually enough to kick the zaps to the curb.
Post a Comment