I've mentioned depression is slow. Before you realize you're depressed, it's too late. You've fallen into the hole, tried scraping your way out by your hands, and are left with bloody stubs.
Apparently I tried to crawl out of my hole by filling my body with cookie dough. 15 lbs of cookie dough, to be exact. It's been a long time since I've dealt with depression. The meds have worked for six years. But after a while my body develops a tolerance. As usual, I maxed out my dose years ago.
Juni getting onto the bus to begin kindergarten began my depression. My baby is growing up. He doesn't need me any more. It's only a matter of time before he's married. You get the gist.
I realized the depth of the depression when, in the spring, Jasen said "Just get off the couch a DO SOMETHING. What the hell have you done today?"
Ummm....let me think...clean, watch tv, stare at tv, and eat cookie dough. Yep. That was my day. Oh...and I took a nap.
So, I made an appointment to begin changing meds, and stepped on the dreaded scale. 15 lbs to show for a winter of depression. Lovely. Six months I'll never get back, and 15 lbs I never needed in the first damned place.
Some medications are easy to switch. You stop taking one pill, and begin the other. Not so much with mine. You slowly take your dose down, and begin taking the new one once you get down to 75 mg. Here's the issue...it takes Wellbutrin, my new drug, 6-8 weeks to begin working. So my doctor and I decided to go from 225 mg of Effexor to 75.
My husband knew it would be rough. "Shit. Here we go again. You're not going to sit in the freezer at Harris Teeter this time, are you?" My Zoloft withdrawal hit me in the freezer isle, and yes, I was hot and confused. So I sat my fat ass into the freezer. Juni was 3 weeks old.
OUCH. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had the flu. There were migraines, brain shocks, the shivers, night sweats, trembling, and a general feeling of anxiety and panic. Xanax became my friend, once again. It's been 4 weeks, and I'm still at 75 mg. Eventually, I'll start taking them every other day, then none at all. But I'm not through the first stage of withdrawal.
Seriously. I feel like a heroin addict. And the withdraw symptoms are similar. The shakes. Nausea. And the oddest feeling, a brain shock. Like something just misfired in my brain, and I'm totally effed for a minute or two. Completely not in the world or this moment. It makes my stomach drop just like a roller coaster. And if I turn my head, my vision doesn't catch up. Bizarre.
But it's worth it. Depression is a bitch. She sneaks in your back door and stays on your couch until you kick her out with steel-toed boots. My depression is gone, for now, just from the thought of feeling better with the Wellbutrin. The thought that things will soon begin working has gotten me off the couch, out of the fridge, and back into life. I spend every moment loving and enjoying Juni. yes, I let myself cry at night that he's 6, getting older, yadda yadda yadda, but it's better than all day. And no more naps. I have energy. Okay, more like anxiety, but I can sometimes channel that feeling into energy and walk the edge of panic.
My body isn't happy and my brain is literally in shock, but the withdrawal is worth it. I've begun to channel some of the anxiety into exercise. I've lost 10 lbs. Of pure cookie dough. Which has shed the tube around my stomach, but failed to touch the cottage cheese permanently in residence on my thighs. Maybe that last withdrawal step will strip that away. Wouldn't that be nice. Smooth legs in themselves would be worth the withdrawal.
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