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- - 3:28 p.m. , 2003-04-23

just a little longer to go - 1:45 p.m. , 2003-03-14

what? me worry? - 9:50 a.m. , 2003-02-27

do photographs steal your soul? - 4:13 p.m. , 2003-02-19

the ten ton weight is removed - 10:37 a.m. , 2002-10-01

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2001-11-09 @ 10:01 a.m.

this is the bumper sticker i want:

Remember how polite you were on September 12th?

Then why are you being such an asshole now?

this came to me as a woman in a volvo sedan, festooned with American Flags almost ran into the side of my car in a rotary.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Prozac anti-depressant 60mg

Wellbutrin anti-depressant 450mg

Effexor anti-depressant 250mg

Buspar anti-anxiety 45mg

Propanalol beta-blocker 30mg

Requip dopamine agonist 2mg

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

above is the current cocktail of chemicals currently being used to treat my depression, and to treat the side-effects caused by the drugs used to treat my depression.

this is some 20 pills. it does not include any things i might _want_ to take: vitamins... calcium... ginko biloba ,if i'm being really proactive.

it doesn't include anything i take on an "as needed" basis to be able to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

honestly i was always one of those people who thought "depression? medication? snap out of it asshole! like my life doesn't suck worse than yours and I DON'T need any steenking medication..."

then came the period of time i had difficulty getting out of bed in the morning, staying at work all day, sleeping, eating, doing anything in a group, doing anything one-on-one, talking to people on the phone... basically existing. the time i found myself putting this one particular bottle of anti-depressants i tried briefly, in a secret place. i put them in a place no one would find them and take them away from me because i read (on the internet of course) that one of the reasons this drug was not a popular treatment (aside from the mother-fucking side-effects), one of the reasons was because a person could kill themselves with an overdose.

(oh and that's a bad thing for depressed people to have? hmmmm)

never having been a violent person, and being wise enough to know there would be only one reason i would own a firearm, i found it quite comforting to know that i had these pills, this option, available if things,

really

honestly

no lie

became too much.

i was tabasco then.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

but i had a great therapist who showed me that acknowledging i was depressed was not a sign of moral or physical weakness. it wasn't because i hadn't made the right decisions or pursued the right opportunities.

so i started thinking. "ok, i'm up for it. i'll take whatever drugs it takes to make this go away"

and everyone agreed that it was totally within the bounds of reason to expect to NOT BE DEPRESSED.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

i started out being treated by a nurse practitioner at my HMO. we went through several medications. it'd take 4-6 weeks to kick in. i'd feel better for awhile... 3 months, 4 months. then anxiety and doubt would start eating in at the edges... very subtly.

when you really want to believe that you're not going to be depressed again it's very easy to ignore the signs.

you go to bed early because you've "been working hard" recently.

you decline invitations to do things with friends because you're feeling a bit skittered and just want to hang out at home.

you stop answering the phone because "it's probably just a credit card offer" and you can star-six-nine them afterward to see if it's someone you really want to talk to (it never is).

you can't focus on things at work and instead surf the web all day. if the opportunity presents itself you go home at 2:00 (boss is out -- know one will know). when you get home you get in bed and sleep until the next morning.

every two or three months this would happen and i'd be surprised every time.

every time.

i went through a couple more practitioners and a couple more combinations of chemicals until i bit the bullet and got a referral to a specialist.

i should feel better now right? even though my doctor looks like a fourteen year-old girl she has great credentials... she is on staff at one of the best hospitals in the US and at arguably one of the most famous nuthouses around (think Robert Lowell, Anne Sexton, James Taylor... and that "girl interrupted"). she's not afraid to try odd combinations of things or drugs that are new. and i appreciate that.

and for a pretty good while i seemed to level out mood-wise -- we began to tweak treatment to minimize the side affects, tremors, sweating, dizziness, memory loss, anxiety, inability to sleep, inablility to stay awake, weight gain, weight loss. oh. and "sexual side affects"...

every time i switched medication it took several weeks to know whether it would do any good during which time the side affects are the most prominent.

i'd get to a place with this many plusses, and this many minuses and we'd change chemicals. then the plusses and minuses would shift around -- and life would suck in the can't- sleep- at- all, can't- stay- awake, have- to- pee- all- the- time, can't- start- peeing- at- all sort of way. all the while i've fallen in love. i'm driving back and forth to new york, i'm trying to stay employed, trying to avoid becoming one of those crazy old ladies watching Wheel of Fortune amidst stacks and stacks of old newpapers....

* * * * * * * * * * * *

so.

whad 'up?

why am i writing this now?

i don't even need to cite any specifics -- i just realized that the evil gray is eating in at the sides. and i don't know what to do.

i'm lonely and i don't want to be with people. i've been talking to the girl but i don't know what the process of working through the depression is like when you've got a partner; i have always laid low until it was over or the new meds kicked in. i never had to acknowledge each day that the cloud was still there, could zone out, put one foot infront of the other until one day i woke up and felt the air on my face like cold water and was awake again.

i don't know how much to say and how much to pretend is ok. it terrifies me that it's coming back and i don't know to what extent and for how long. i'm afraid that she'll suddenly see the incredibly deep shit i/she/we are in and i am not articulate enough to explain what is going on and to reassure HER that thinks will be alright.

i'm afraid because i don't know if there is any combination of drugs or treatment left to try. i'm afraid because when i think of the future i never think about being old... i never bother figuring out what it will be like because at some level i don't believe i'll be around to worry about it.

i'm afraid that my brain isn't working right and that i'll miss something in traffic and be in an accident. i'm afraid because the other day when this asshole Staples truck drove right up on my ass as i was exiting onto route 9, when this asshole truck thought he'd take advantage of my exiting to use my lane and pass a line of cars on the right, i momentarily considered breaking so he'd run the fuck into me.

i'm just afraid.

asshole.