I am no longer anti-depressed
I didn’t go off anti-depressants cold turkey because I thought it was a good idea. Due to all sorts of stupidity on the behalf of my insurance (i.e., it got cancelled because the auto-payments I set up didn’t actually auto-pay), my prescription ran out and I couldn’t see the doctor for a refill for another week.
Side rant: the AUTOMATIC DEBIT or AUTO PAY feature on the Commonwealth Care website it purely decorative. IT DOESN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING! And, when you sign up to auto-pay your monthly premiums, it puts you on “paperless statements” which means you never find out that you actually now owe a zillion dollars in interest and back payments unless you actually remember to log into the site, or you get the notice in the mail that they’ve cancelled it. Oh yeah, they always reinstate your insurance at the beginning of the month, so if it gets cancelled on, say, March 29th, and you miraculously manage to get things back on track (it takes like 10 steps to reinstate insurance, and they don’t tell you what these steps are; you have to figure it out when you give them money and then get a notice that says “pick an insurance plan! (the one I already had, motherfuckers!) and then wait a couple of days for that decision to get “into the system.” Then it’s “pick a Primary Care Physician!” (how about the one I’ve had for 6 years, dickwads?) and wait a few days etc. Anyway, the earliest you can expect your insurance to be active under those circumstances is May 1st. You end up paying for April anyway because they always bill you, but you won’t have insurance until May 1st. I think this year I will not have had insurance for the mandatory 9 months, but if they make me pay the penalty fee I am so gonna fight it! I will move out of state if necessary!
Anyway, once I was off the anti-depressants (what the hell was I on again? Oh yeah, Lexapro. It sounds like something you would use to shine your golf clubs with) for a week, I figured, “hey, what would happen if I went off them for good? I mean, I feel fine now!” I was well aware that the drugs linger in your system forever and that the reason I felt awesome still was probably because I still had some molecules floating around in there.
It was pretty awesome! I felt fine, and all the irritating side effects of the drugs went away. I actually was not exhausted all the time! I didn’t feel the need to take 3 naps a day anymore! I could walk up and down the stairs at job 2 all I wanted and not break into a sweat so massive it made my feet slippery inside my shoes so I tripped all the time! (who even knew you could sweat on the bottoms of your feet?) What’s more, there were no more side effects that I won’t go into great detail about that involved the booty. They weren’t tragic, prohibitive side effects; they were just kind of irritating.
So, fast forward 2 more weeks. Apparently all the drugs are out of my system now, and I am still enjoying the benefits of not being constantly exhausted. For example, I went to bed at 2 a.m. last night, woke up at 10:00 this morning and I feel fine! Holy crap, I am able to function on 8 hours of sleep? When has that ever happened? Usually I spend all weekend trying to make up for the sleep I didn’t get all week, or at least staying in bed until noon because I can. Also, I can poop at will! This is awesome! Pooping RULES!! Pooping is (literally) THE SHIT!
But here’s the big however– of course all my depression symptoms are back. Sort of. I’m not feeling a whole lot of that “I’m fat and ugly and old and useless and I have a dead end job and no future I should just go jump off a bridge” kind of thing that used to be always there. However, I am super irritable. Things that I used to ignore, not notice, or brush off now really get on my nerves. Not about people, it’s more frustration at things. It’s like, I was trying to bake a pie last night and there wasn’t enough room for the rolling pin on the counter because there’s too much shit everywhere. We have a giant kitchen with lots of counter space, but because it’s Farm Share Season, every surface is heaped with rotting produce that won’t fit anywhere else, and plus we have 10,000 appliances that have to live somewhere. This was making me irrationally angry to the point where I wanted to throw things. I hate rolling out dough anyway, but I got madder and madder and stopped caring, so now the pie looks like a patchwork of franken-crust just kind of poked into place because I couldn’t be bothered to care. It was everything I could do to not throw it across the room, pie pan and all.
Also, this morning, I went to put sugar in my coffee and noted that there were more coffee-covered lumps in the sugar and encrusted on the spoon than actual sugar. My brain is screaming WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE A FUCKING DIFFERENT SPOON TO STIR YOUR COFFEE AFTER YOU PUT SUGAR IN IT, MOTHERFUCKERS?!!? Normally, I would just brush this off as the sort of annoying one lives with while having roommates. On drugs, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed or cared.
Oh yeah, I get choked up over stupid things. I was reading The Lorax to The Kid and got slightly teary. OK, the Lorax. It’s a parable about how the environment is going to shit. It’s a book that I remember from my childhood… oh yeah, I get weirdly, irrationally sentimental about things these days. But I can see why The Lorax would choke one up. It’s when I started getting choked up while I was babysitting last night– I was working on some spreadsheets and Rob was watching Glee. They were singing that Coldplay song “The Scientist.” WTF, Me?!?!?! IT’S A COLDPLAY SONG! SUNG CHEESILY BY TEENAGERS ON A TELEVISION SHOW!!!!!!! Jesus Christ, I’m turning into revolting freak.
So is this who I “really am”? People who are against anti-depressants are always throwing around that stupid argument “oh Prozac covers up who I really am inside” blah blah blah. Am I really a cranky intolerant asshole who bawls like a little bitch at gay Muzak arrangements of COLDPLAY SONGS? (a low bar to begin with, although I actually really love that song). If so, bring on the drugs because DAYUMMM I should be taken out back and shot!
However, I’m enjoying the non-side effects. Maybe I should have a weekend of crazy non-stop booty and then go back to being tired and sweaty all the time. Then at least I’ll be able to have prime time tv on in the background in my regularly scheduled constipated indifference.
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