idle musings

I have been taking 37.5 mg of Venlafaxine for one week. After my previous experience on an antidepressant (of which I did not post about and barely talked about – I may rectify this but suffice it to say for now that the side effects won after only 8 days and I stopped), I was terribly nervous about trying again. However, crying every day wasn’t much fun; neither was having a small scale anxiety attack in the grocery store.

(It didn’t help that a lady took my cart by mistake. I was at the deli counter and when I turned around, there was no cart. I was already fighting panic for no particular reason – feeling like maybe I had hallucinated my cart very nearly tipped me over the edge. Faintly amusing now; not so much at the time.)

I decided that headaches and nausea and fucked up bowels were worth not having multiple panic attacks every night while I slept, causing me to wake up terrified with a jolt, eyes wide open and starting into the darkness, wondering what had caused such an awakening. A dry mouth and sweaty hands were worth the ability to interact with other human beings in a social setting.

So, I went back to my doctor and asked for some magic pills. I asked specifically for ones that had less side affects on the digestive system but unfortunately her answer was that most of them had some sort of affect in that area. The good news was that those affects are usually just at the beginning and if one can stick it out, they generally subside.

Armed with my new prescription for Venlaflaxine and a bottle of Ativan in my purse as a ‘just in case’ precaution, I ventured into the world of the drugged up mentally ill again.* I am extremely happy to report that while I have had one night of insomnia this week, and the not so occasional thrills of adrenaline shoot through me for no apparent reason (leaving me feeling slightly nauseous and out of breath until it subsides out of my blood), I have been feeling much better. I haven’t cried all week! I have felt … better. Normal. Or closer to normal, anyway.**

My doctor made me promise that I would call the therapist she had referred me to, which I did. She charges $100 an hour but she told me that some benefit plans cover a couple of visits. On my day off this week I plan to call my benefits and find out if my plan does such a thing. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

In completely unrelated news, I am going to Washington DC in August with my dad. He is attending a conference for work, and I am going to putt around the city at my own pace, drinking in the sights. We’re going to take the train up to Philadelphia to catch a ballgame and then fly home from there. The flight is booked which is great – the fact that we leave on August 14th and my specialist appointment for my knee is on the 18th is not so great. Looks like I’m gonna have to reschedule. These days, though, mental health needs to come before physical health, and getting out of town for a bit is going to do wonders for me. Hey, I guess this isn’t completely unrelated after all!

* I am a drugged up mentally ill person – I am absolutely not poking fun at anyone, nor making light of anyone’s situation. Just in case that was not clear.

** My own definition of normal, based on how I personally have felt in the past.

Tags: body acceptance