Saturday, August 8, 2009

Depression and Drugs

I stopped taking both my ADHD and anti-depressant meds about a month ago. Why? Well I think the combination of meds was having a weird effect on me. The ADHD stuff especially. I was crashing. I would sleep all night long, wake up tired, sleep on my commute, be tired all day at work, sleep on my commute home and pass out when I got home. Also, I remember going to see my sister and her kids, something that I LOVE to do, and I slept all weekend. She was pissed and told me that it was like being with a junkie. The thing is that I had been feeling that way myself for while. And thinking to myself that this cannot be good to feel this "tired" all the time. So I stopped. Cold turkey. That was about 4 weeks ago I think. And for the first 3 weeks or so I was fine. But not anymore. The depression is creeping up on me. One of the reasons I was taking anti depressants in the first place, was because I was feeling everything too much. Something would touch me or make me sad, and it would send me into a tailspin. I would see a commercial on TV that was the least bit touching and I would just become inconsolable. I hated that feeling. I had no control over myself. Hence the drugs.

I really thought I was fine; maybe I’ve licked this thing. But then recently, a friend of mine asked me about my ex-boyfriend and I got all weepy. I was reading a book Shelter Me, [which I recommend by the way] and there are some moments of sadness in there, but there were moments when I had to put the book down, because I could feel myself getting upset. I know that it’s good to feel things. But I am also very aware that I am not someone who is able to control herself once she gets started. I remember seeing Forrest Gump in the movies (many many moons ago) and for some reason, at the end of that movie I cried for at least an hour. I KNEW it was weird, but I couldn't help it. Something about seeing things that are touching, or sad just sets me off in a way that is just not normal.

The problem is that I kind of hate my psychiatrist. He’s kind of a drug pushing, douche bag. I just feel like sure he should be dispensing drugs and most times that’s all I wanted from him. But I remember that one time, I started to talk about something and he offered me a referral to someone for the therapy part. WTF? Dude I PAY you. My insurance PAYS you. So while yes, most times I just want to be in an out sometimes you might actually have to talk to me. That’s your JOB! Isn’t it? Now I’m thinking about this while I write. Is he not supposed to talk to me? Is that not what he is there for? Maybe he is supposed to be a pill dispenser and that I should find myself a Therapist or something. Great…something NEW to think about.

Today is Saturday. I’m going to WW and see what kind of damage I did this week. I know that I haven’t been measuring or even keep track of what I’ve been eating. I think I need my ass kicked!

I was supposed to be social last night. Totally bailed out. I can rationalize all I want and say that well it was late and I was broke. True. But I haven’t seen this friend of mine in a long time and I should have just gone to say hi. Even if I left an hour later. I’m supposed to go to the park this afternoon with a co-worker/friend of mine for a concert. Right now, its looking like I want to stay home and in bed. But we are pushing right?

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