I miss my happy pills

So HOLY CRAP are things harder now that my Wellbutrin is gone.  I’m not the kind of person to generally hide behind labels, but any tiny doubts about whether anything is physically wrong with me are totally and completely gone.

It was hard to tell at times before, because moods and reactions obviously shift greatly depending on what outside stresses are going on, how we’re doing emotionally in general, etc.  Having suddenly experienced the with and without medication experience while the other parts of my life remained constant has brought the difference into pretty vivid focus.  I was getting pretty good at rolling with the punches.  They’re weren’t punches… they were just fist hugs.  Now I’m back to weeping in the car because something in my husband’s tone has indicated to me that he disapproves of my desire to have sushi for lunch, and I simply cannot handle that.

Sigh.

I had sort of forgotten how difficult everything could be, to be honest.

Fingers crossed that the next med they try will have the positive effect but without all the puffy red itchiness.

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2 Responses to “I miss my happy pills”

  1. susan says:

    “fist hugs”… Ha!

    Here’s to a non-itchy super pill to smooth those rough edges back out. *raises imaginary glass*

  2. Curiosity says:

    Thanks. :) I’ll drink to that!

    Seriously, I can barely do laundry right now without getting teary about it. It’s like PMS on crack.

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