Going down
An inauspicious day.
Just got back from the doctors, with a crisp new Paranoid's Pay-cheque.
That is right, aliens and misfits, I'm going back on anti-depressants for the first time in a decade.
My depression has, over the last six months, become increasingly unbearable. The arrival of the nipper has both added to this (as an entirely reasonable extra strain) and, more importantly, made it far more essential that I don't lose my shit and let Liz and Corben down. The doc took the time to establish if it was in fact the baby that was making me depressed but agreed that it didn't sound so, just that he's obviously a new and weighty factor to drop into the mix.
After a few minutes talking to the poor guy, he was hurriedly thrusting a prescription for Citalopram at me. I explained that I wasn't begging for drugs, I really wanted to discuss the options. He gave me a questionnaire to fill out and I probably got filed as a Mental when I laughed, realising it was like an LJ quiz and wondering where the "Ticky box!" option was.
I answered conservatively. I scored perilously highly. He reached for the prescription sheet again. Slowed him down again and asked him about contra-indications, would it wreck my sleep, could it make me much worse, is it particularly bad with alcohol (as I remember Seroxat being), etc.
This bought me a blood test when he asked how much I drank. 'Teach me to be a wise guy. Oh well. This was something else I'd been putting off.
Anyway, upshot is (despite my tone) positive. I'm doing things to sort myself out, booze is still greatly reduced because you can't hit the bottle like I did with a baby in tow, and there's a reasonable chance the drugs may actually do their job and make me feel like the world isn't crashing down every other day.
Fuck it, I'm on a roll. I'm going to call the fucking dentist.
Just got back from the doctors, with a crisp new Paranoid's Pay-cheque.
That is right, aliens and misfits, I'm going back on anti-depressants for the first time in a decade.
My depression has, over the last six months, become increasingly unbearable. The arrival of the nipper has both added to this (as an entirely reasonable extra strain) and, more importantly, made it far more essential that I don't lose my shit and let Liz and Corben down. The doc took the time to establish if it was in fact the baby that was making me depressed but agreed that it didn't sound so, just that he's obviously a new and weighty factor to drop into the mix.
After a few minutes talking to the poor guy, he was hurriedly thrusting a prescription for Citalopram at me. I explained that I wasn't begging for drugs, I really wanted to discuss the options. He gave me a questionnaire to fill out and I probably got filed as a Mental when I laughed, realising it was like an LJ quiz and wondering where the "Ticky box!" option was.
I answered conservatively. I scored perilously highly. He reached for the prescription sheet again. Slowed him down again and asked him about contra-indications, would it wreck my sleep, could it make me much worse, is it particularly bad with alcohol (as I remember Seroxat being), etc.
This bought me a blood test when he asked how much I drank. 'Teach me to be a wise guy. Oh well. This was something else I'd been putting off.
Anyway, upshot is (despite my tone) positive. I'm doing things to sort myself out, booze is still greatly reduced because you can't hit the bottle like I did with a baby in tow, and there's a reasonable chance the drugs may actually do their job and make me feel like the world isn't crashing down every other day.
Fuck it, I'm on a roll. I'm going to call the fucking dentist.
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It's not past logical thinking that if they took the time out to get a better feel of peoples' problems and get them into some sort of regular and useful therapy, less people would spend their whole lives on the medication train... but it's just not like that.
One day... one day I will firebomb the NHS mental health department and no one will refute my insanity plea...
*supportive squish*
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You might feel a bit dizzy/spaced for a few days - I take my meds at night so that if there is any side-effects they can wreck havoc on me while i'm alseep. they also tend to make you a bit drowsy so can also help you get off to sleep in the first place. Oh, and keep a glass of water handy as they can give you a dry mouth!
Not that i'm an expert at this ;)
(oh, and seroxat is a pissing AWFUL drug. I wouldn't touch it with someone elses!!)
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Fucking.
Joy.
Because I don't already have the ability to get an erection looking at a vole fucking a skateboard.
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FWIW, I have a much easier time of it on citalopram than I did on Seroxat, which made me a hermit.
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My good lady, I can wank for the half-day-solid required to come on a heavy speed come-down, I consider that merely the sound of a gauntlet glancing my cheek. ;)
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Pfft - men have all the fun ;)
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Are you going to be okay for this weekend? Not that you have any choice, you understand...
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Good job on actually confronting the issue head on, that's a big thing in itself.
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Thankya, feller. things will right themselves. :)
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Fuck it, I'm on a roll. I'm going to call the fucking dentist.
Probably just as well, since I had a dream that you had an abcess a couple of weeks ago.
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once upon a time, you used to dream about my manly thighs, dude.
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It's true though, it was some kind of dystopian future where musicians were hunted down and exterminated. Myself, Simon Gallup out of The Cure and Will Smith had dodged an extermination squad by ducking into a multi-storey car park. There we discovered you, where you'd been hiding out for months and living on any rats you could catch and eat raw. You'd developed abcesses in your gums that were as big as 10p pieces and you could only communicate in lyrics from your own songs. Fortunately, I knew enough of your songs to understand and converse with you. We formed a loose group of rebels that was later joined by Nick Heyward out of Haircut 100, Fred Durst and Gene Simmons and we were like some kind of musical A.B.C. Warriors. In fact, we all looked like we'd been drawn by Simon Bisley.
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Mmm for fizzy orange ;)
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Good luck with the sweeties.
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and alcohol *is* a depressant. chances are you'll see some benefit from cutting back drink.
best of luck to you!
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It's my doctor's favourite. He hands it out like sweets at Hallowe'en, which is... an interesting method, shall we say.
Good luck with all the stuff and things! xxxxx
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(I have residual guilt that simply because of where I live I got to a CBT therapist within two weeks, when others who need it at least as much if not more wait for months and years.)
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After the first couple weeks both me and Liz (at different times!) went through a slightly manic, euphoric kind of phase then it sort of levelled out.
My personal view on anti-depressants is that they *can* be really useful and they're not always inferior to therapy. When I had that anxiety thing a couple years back I had a few months of counselling and it helped a bit. Since being on Citalopram it has pretty much gone and I don't think it'll come back when I stop taking it. About 3 years ago I couldn't face the idea of even going in a car as a passenger, now I'm driving to Northampton to go drag racing. Bit of a difference! :D
Best of luck with it!
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Got to take fluoxetine (prozac) til after the baby and after breastfeeding, then I get back on my good reliable ones... They had weird side effects to start with but I persevered and they are TEH wonderfulllll!
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x
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If you're not already aware of them, these chaps do a great job of accurate and honest reviews of drugs and their interactions etc:
http://www.crazymeds.org/
And these guys are good for checking potential drug clashes (The site was started with AIDS patients in mind, but is really good for all prescribed meds)
https://www.aidsmeds.com/cmm/
I really have a terrible reaction to SSRIs. Some of them (inc. Citalopram) have very nearly ended up in irreversible circumstances, if you get my drift. But then i'm diagnosed BiPolar ii, and SSRIs can sometimes trigger manic spells.. in my case Citalopram caused a great deal of damage, mostly associated with anxiety.
But that's just me. I hope they work well for you, and things feel like they're taking an upturn sooner rather than later.
Take care dude
xxx
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Gin and tonic goes well with the pills xx
Drugs and stuff
Buy and read this please, it's pretty awesome
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Had-Black-Dog-Matthew-Johnstone/dp/1845295897/ref=sr_1_1/026-9824655-4827642?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1180561769&sr=1-1
Also if you can't afford talking therapys or can't wait for the NHS ro refer you please speak to MIND http://www.mind.org.uk/
Ring the info line and see if they can offer you talking therapys of some kind.
Thing is you are very clued up as to what makes you tick so I am not totally sure a talking therapy would hold the answer, maybe Nurual Linguistic Programming would help more
http://www.nlp-now.co.uk/nlp-what.htm
Basicly NLP is about taking learned behaviors and breaking them, your Black Dog has become a learned behavior so learning how to control with NLP might very well be the answer for you.
And please please don't self medicate sweetie :( That is where the madness lies. But I am sure you know that.
On a more personal note I found Prozac to be very good.
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Lexi & I are a household of depression, so I've got a serious opinion on the subject (as well as a dog in the fight) [much meta-linkage].
There's lots of serious research coming these days that point to depression being not only a physical disease which destroys the hippocampus, but causes all manner of physical ailments such as osteoporosis, heart disease, and hypertension, above and beyond making it hard to even think straight. And leaving it untreated just allows the deterioration to continue unabated.
Depression is a bitch. Glad to hear you're taking steps to get a handle on living with it.
Much love, bro. We may be in California, but we're definitely in your corner.
[info]spiritualmonkey