Posts Tagged ‘dorky swear words’

Traumatized, I tell you.

Friday, March 26th, 2010

So the p-doc now thinks that my body was so traumatized by the Effexor withdrawal I went through last year that now the signal of lowering my dosage of SSRI is triggering it to go bat shit crazy all on its own.  So it’s not the Luvox.  It is me.  My own sweet body, making me dizzy and nauseous, and plummeting levels of certain chemicals, and getting my brain to electrocute me.  Great.

I’m not sure how much I entirely buy it yet (he’s suggested some things to try in order to prove or disprove it).  I’m also not entirely sure which verdict I’m pulling for.  Would feel like a bit of an idiot if it’s my own chemistry sabotaging me and putting me through all of this.  But on the plus side, I might be able to get clear of the Luvox more easily.  And it’s the option that doesn’t involve me vomiting all day as a result of the testing.  Also, I would have the MOST POWERFUL BRAIN EVER.  Which is kind of cool on its own.

But damn, if it can affect my neurotransmitter levels that strongly, then somebody tell me what I need to do to kick this whole depression thing and just get my brain doing that for me instead.  Also, I would like some weight loss.  And x-ray eyes.

Had another night of crappy sleep last night combined with my now-patented 4 or 5 am awakening.  I literally let out a “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” today when the morning alarm went off.  And I was still fully awake to hear it.  This says something, as unless I am driving or playing video games, I am not naturally a big swearer.  I say scathing things, like “crap” and “drat.”  I reserve the right to moan and whine about the frequent awakening a little, as I do not have babies yet.  I’m sure all of the new moms are rolling their eyes a little, but can probably sympathize.

(except that if you’ll read above, I’ve patented it now.  So you’ll owe me.)

The Wellbutrin continues to make a positive contribution aside from the sleep thing.  According to my mind, this is apparently cause for much celebration, followed by an instant of panic that I may be put back to work, followed by some worrying about trying to deal with that side of things and the decisions surrounding it, followed by the rationalization that if it causes so much panic still I’m probably not yet well enough to go back, followed by a moment of relief, followed by another moment of panic that they might send me anyway, followed by lunch.

Mmmm.  Lunch.