Medication

This post may seem disjointed, wandering and aimless. I feel all three of those things right now. At least I’m feeling something today. Here I am again in what seems like a vicious cycle that I can’t quite figure out… I can sometimes go days, weeks, and I’ve even had some good months all in a row, where I’m ok and I can deal with the grief and live my life. But then one little wrong move or one giant move and I’m not okay. I need help…

Last week I asked my doctor for medication… again. Each time I’ve tried the medication route it has been a failure. Last week I had hope that this time it would be different. You name it and I’ve taken it, it seems. Anti-depressants have one of 2 side effects for me. 1. I become suicidal, or 2. I completely check out, or 3. Ok 1 of 3 side effects. They bring out some odd little detail, which is normally an obscure habit for me, to the forefront. Once I took an anti-depressant and it brought all my OCD tendencies to the forefront. I had kept my sentence and word counting somewhat of a secret. A few people knew that I liked to count and make sure the words in my sentences ended in multiples of 5. I’d done that since sometime in high school… it had kind of faded as I had gotten older, but from time to time, I still catch myself counting words and rearranging them to make sure they are divisible by 5. This time though, I was sitting in my counselors office picking the polka dots and imaginary fuzz off my clothes. That was a fun couple of weeks-NOT!

My lack of success with medication begs the question, if the medication doesn’t work, then what? Is this just the way it’s going to be? Will I ever reach that place of being ok with my grief? It’s too complicated for me to even contemplate. In my mind, being ok with my grief is the same as being okay that Patrick died. I’ll never be okay with that. I’ll never be okay that Patrick died. Counseling will keep trying to unravel that. I think eventually it will, but I will always hold on to that little little shred of equating the two together.

Back to medication. What if it works this time? I’m not holding out much hope as I draw close to the end of week 1. But what if it does? Is it really working? Is it just masking how I feel? My body is begging for serotonin. In the words of my counselor, ‘…if I’ve ever seen anyone in need of serotonin, it’s you.’ Thanks… I’m trying. I’m fighting an uphill battle. The medication causes fatigue, which causes me to not want to go outside and walk, which reduces my chance of getting the serotonin I so desperately need, and since I don’t have enough serotonin, I’m depressed, rinse, lather, repeat–day in and day out. See you again in the morning or in my case lately, early afternoon.

Last week I was suicidal, this week I’m emotionless, maybe next week I’ll be OCD… dear god… what a mess… what a mess… I’d give anything to go back and change things…if I could just change 2 minutes either way… I’d be dealing with a different mess of life right now…