I have sunken into a self-loathing funk today.
I do this once in a while. The fucked up thing is I don’t know what I’m in a funk about. I’m sure I do, on some subconscious level, but I don’t want to delve into that right now. I prefer deluding myself rather than coping with it and dealing with anything resembling reality.
Reality is overrated.
It’s a trade-off, this. I was on happy pills for 6 years. 6 years. Last July I just up and decided I didn’t want to be on them anymore. The thing is, they weren’t truly happy pills. They were ’emotional automaton’ pills. I did not feel depressed on them, no. I did not panic, I slept, I did not have chest-tightening anxiety attacks. Goal attained.
I also could not cry. I could not feel unbound joy. Anger eluded me. Romance was absolutely out of the question. I was nothingness…I was emotionless. I am not a cold, unfeeling being by nature. These turned me into something else. I did not like me very much.
So, I did a trial separation. Wanted to see if I’d re-engage in my self-loathing, destructive and panic-stricken behavior without excess serotonin flowing through my brain. If I did, I’d know I’d actually needed them.
Well, I was 90% right.
Today just happens to be one of the 10%. Like I said, it’s a trade-off. Payment due to the gods of non-chemical contentment. Bastards better appreciate it and not spend it all on weed again.
Besides, if people were meant to be happy and elated every minute of every day of every year, it wouldn’t be life. It’d be an episode of Full House.
*shudder*
So here I sit, in my glummy snit.
Side note: ever go through antidepressant withdrawal? It is good times.
I did some research whilst in the throes of the electric-shock sensations reverberating throughout my body and to my utter dismay and vindication (family was convinced I was exaggerating…) found that the symptoms of SSRI withdrawal are likened to heroin.
Heroin.
Observe:
The symptoms associated with heroin withdrawal that are similar to SSRI withdrawal are: nausea, diarrhea, vomiting, restlessness, and leg movements, or jerking. While heroin produces muscle and bone pain, insomnia, and cold flashes with goose bumps (“cold turkey”), which are not identical to SSRI withdrawal, the SSRI symptoms of headache, “electric shocks”, dizziness and hot flashes as well as psychotic mental state (violent anger/hopeless depression, unwanted suicidal/homicidal thinking) are similarly debilitating and certainly result in the return to the use of SSRI’s in the same way that heroin produces that result. Most experts agree that the major withdrawal symptoms peak between 24 and 48 hours after the last dose of heroin and subside after about a week. However, some people have shown persistent withdrawal signs for many months.
That’s the catch. The withdrawal symptoms are so debilitating and intolerable that you go back on them to make the nightmares, twitching, manic depression and blinding flashes of light to go away. The feelings of constant anxiety, panic and despair are so intense you believe that you do in fact need antidepressants. So back to the pharmacist you go.
I was determined. And just shy of psychotic. But my pride remained intact. I was not going to let a bottle of friendly-looking pink pills alter my brain chemistry and turn me into an emotional vacuum, which is what they did. I felt nothing. I had NO sex drive. I was a turnip. So, I flushed the fuckers down the toilet and plodded on. Granted the insomnia was unbearable, the random terror-induced sobbing fits freaked out my co-workers and the inability to form coherent sentences caused me to occasionally question my decision. But dammitall, this had to happen.
So you can see why I’m perfectly willing to endure the 10% just to feel human.
I shall sit in my cozy little funk here and reassure myself that the odds of having two 10% days in a row are highly unlikely.
Again, reality is overrated.
So, yes, I cry. I get angry, irrationally at times. I funk it out on occasion (10%). But I also laugh, make jokes, and find amusement in most facets of human nature. And the sex life ain’t too shabby, either. We got some lost time to make up for, after all.