Antidepressants: I’m a Believer.

Post breakup (back in late September) with an abusive assclown, I found myself deep in the pit a/k/a the abyss, the quicksand, the deep-dark-hole-of-nothingness. When Dr. McEnroe suggested antidepressants, I must admit I was quite skeptical. I’ve read all the articles about them being no better than placebo and causing horrific side effects. And I’m generally against medication of any sort on principle.

But I knew I had to do something, so I relented. As the days passed, I began to feel better. I found it less difficult to get out of bed in the morning. I felt a little less hopeless. I stopped hunkering down at home, avoiding social interaction. I started sleeping better. I had more energy. My motivation improved. And most importantly to me, the brain fog began to clear.

Now that I can think clearly, I see just how off I’d been cognitively (in addition to emotionally). I’d been struggling with completing projects. I couldn’t stay focused. I had a hard time following substantive discussions and responding appropriately. I thought I was just distracted and needed to try harder to focus. But now that my mind is sharp once again, I can see it was the depression. These past few weeks, it feels as if I’ve gotten back the fire, completing work projects with gusto. Yes, this girl is back. And maybe even better than before.

Even better than before, you say? Yes. Better. Case in point: I cleaned out my closet. Yes, the dreaded master bedroom, walk-in closet. I filled two of those black trash bags with clothes, and a third with shoes and handbags. I didn’t struggle over what to keep and what to toss. I made the decision, bahm, and moved on to the next item. They’re now in my trunk, ready for drop-off at Good Will. And this weekend, I’m going to weed the garden. I love pulling weeds; the sound and feel of the roots releasing the earth. Good stuff.

This all feels a bit manic to me. For most, I’m guessing it’s normal. It’s nice to feel other people’s normal.

If you’re interested in what I began taking, when, read the paragraph below. If not, you might want to skip on down below to my nod to Davy Jones.

I started on 150 mg of Wellbutrin and 15 mg Deplin on December 22, 2011. Three weeks later, on January 12, 2012, Dr. McEnroe bumped me up to 300 mg Wellbutrin (continuing with the 15 mg of Deplin). Three weeks after that, on Feb. 2, he added 1 mg of Abilify to the mix. Abilify? An anti-psychotic? Am I psychotic? While I may have been temporarily insane for dating Mack for a year, no, I’m not psychotic. Apparently, for some, Abilify helps with depression and anxiety. For the first few days I was sleepy and nauseated. Eventually, both side effects disappeared, and I began feeling more energetic and  motivated. (I’ve also been told I’ve been more pleasant to be around.) Four weeks after that, on March 1 (yesterday), I started on 2 mg Abilify. So the current breakfast cocktail is 300 mg Wellbutrin, 2 mg Abilify, 15 mg Deplin. That second milligram of Abilify seems to be the icing on the cake. I feel pretty darn good today.

So after ten weeks on the antidepressants, like Davy Jones:

I’m a believer.

Davy Jones of the Monkees, gone but not forgotten. Click here for the video of I’m a Believer. http://youtu.be/XfuBREMXxts)

 

10 comments

    • I sure hope it lasts. I’ve got a few more closets needing attention.

      I had a look at the photo blog. Great stuff! And I recognized the Deplin immediately. I don’t do any photography (other than nature), but those shots are intriguing. Maybe I can increase my photographic vision….

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      • Nature would be welcomed! It can show such a range of emotions or moods. Just send the picture(s) or a link, and let us know what they mean to you, your mood state when shooting or a mood that the photos represent to you, and anything else that you think would be relevant. Hope to hear from you soon.

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  • I’m glad the antidepressants are working for you and that you are ‘on the up’ 🙂

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  • There is so much suffering in the world due to misconceptions about depression and the medications that can cure it. I am seldom able to get through that barrier when urging a depressed individual to see a doctor. Congratulations for your courage to try and for the successful outcome! Also, on behalf of humanity, THANK YOU for spreading the word by sharing your experience.

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    • Awwww, thanks Human. I don’t know whether the meds make everyone feel oh so much better, but they’re working for me. And I shall keep blogging about my experience. The stigma has got to go! People need to know they can feel better and there’s no reason to feel shame.

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  • I remember very clearly when my parents, who were adamantly against my taking any drugs either because I was just a little “high strung” or “dramatic” finally broke down and told me that I am just a lot easier and more pleasant to be around when medicated…I like me better medicated. Significantly. I don’t like it but it’s the way it just is.

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    • It embarrasses my parents. But then, my family prefers to hide all things of significance. I agree with you; I like me better medicated, too. I’d forgotten what it feels like to want to engage in living. And to feel less surly.

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      • It makes a huge difference. It took my parents a good 10 years to agree that it was the best choice…now that I am older I wonder if it had anything to do with them not liking it because it made them feel like they had done something wrong, or something like that. It’s weird when you get to the point where you realize your parents really aren’t much more experienced or knowledgeable than your friends!

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