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Just Being Honest. . .

May 19, 2011

Are we being honest?

Because being honest sure doesn’t mean being pretty.  At least not all the time, right?

And this ain’t pretty, my quiet and distant internet friends.

My last update was that I was going through some withdrawals.  That I came home one night from out to dinner with the hubs and went straight for the meds.

I was sure I was feeling super, duper nauseated from weaning off of them. 

Well, here’s the deal; I had been taking 2 meds.  One was for depression and nerve pain and the other was more for anxiety.  The one for depression is the one I want(ed) off of the most.  It is soooo pricey.  & it makes my brain feel foggy.  & I feel tired all the time when on it.  It had worked for awhile, but then it stopped.  Come to find out, others have had that response with this particular medication, so it isn’t all that crazy.

So when I started back on meds that night that I posted, I was taking a teeny tiny bit of the anxiety med.  I was feeling all sorts of anxious, so I felt it would be the go-to one. 

By Saturday, I was even more nauseated.  I felt less anxious, but so incredibly ill.

Finally, by Sunday afternoon, I took a tiny bit of the antidepressant med, which I call “the evil one”.  It isn’t evil to take medication.  All medication isn’t evil.  I’m actually FOR medication.  It has saved my life, if we’re being honest.

So I broke down and took some of the evil one.  If it would stop my nausea, which had by now triggered a migraine, I was surrendering.

By Sunday night, I was in the Emergency Room.  I was so, so, so sick.  If I knew I wasn’t pregnant, I would’ve thought I was actually pregnant.  I don’t typically get physically sick to my stomach like that.  Unless pregnant.  So I went in to the Emergency Room and told the doctor there that I was convinced that I was sick from weaning myself off “the evil one”. 

Either he didn’t take me seriously or he feels super strongly that it wasn’t the case, but he diagnosed me with a hardcore stomach virus that has been going around here. 

I want to believe that he’s right.  That it was all a stomach virus.

Here’s why; I have continued to take “the evil one” this entire week.  And all week, I’ve slipped further and further into the fog.  I swear to you that it is making me feel more depressed, not less.  It’s awful.  And I want off of it.  And now.

I think before I do anything on my own again, though, I should see a doctor I trust and respect.  See what he has to say about the matter.  Maybe he has tips or tricks.  Or maybe he could start me on another antidepressant while weaning off of this one to lessen any of the negative effects. 

I dunno. 

All I know is this has to stop.  One way or another.  It has to.  I can’t take it.

I told the hubs tonight that I am fuh-reaking out.  I am anxious about tomorrow.  About waking up to another gloomy, dumpy day inside.  It is stressing me out to think of what’s to come, because it won’t be nice.

I’m sure he cares, but he was less than reassuring.  He’s busy.  He has a lot on his plate. And he’s obsessed with his newly balding hairline in the back of his head.  Serious!  (Haven’t I mentioned that we are a bit too obsessed with our looks?!)  So I don’t think he got it when I told him I was going to wake him up after the house was silent and make him talk to me all night long.  So I wouldn’t have to be scared and anxious for tomorrow. . . . .

In the morning, right after dropping the oldest off at school, I will call my doctor.  The one I trust.  & I will pray to the happy-dust fairies that he can get me in for an appt before he leaves the office at noon.  & I will pray more to the happy-dust fairies that if I do get in to see him, he will be confident and happy to work with me on this latest bump in the road.

I know it’s not what Maria Shriver is going through right now, but still, to me, this is sooooo bad. . .

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