The withdrawal has been proceeding on schedule. The last week or so has been a little off, but basically tolerable. I’ve been pretty much able to keep a cheerful face on things around others, I just also crack into a thousand tiny pieces behind closed doors when presented with stress. Yesterday evening was the first with no additional Luvox in my system. I took the tiniest most mockable little shred in the morning, but not enough to last me the whole day. …Which was promptly apparent, but still a nice triumph all the same.
I will admit that it was harder than I had expected. I sort of thought that the general complications I’ve been having all along as I reduced the dosage would likely continue for a week or two while my system evened out, but I was hoping the pill bits were small enough now that there wouldn’t be that much of a change when I made the call to stop taking them. Um…no. Ha ha ha. Heh. No.
Last night was a bit of an unexpected adventure, featuring such highlights as the Lie Down and Do Nothing prophesy, the Quest for the Missing Sanity, and the epic battle of Calm the Fuck Down. It was like I was in pain, but emotional pain, not physical. Not pain over anything in particular, though, just generic intense emotional pain. The kind of pain that makes you sob and sob and sob if you think too much about it. By the end of the evening, I was literally laughing at myself and crying at the same time because it was just so off the deep end ridiculous. I could NOT stop crying. For no reason. And I fully realized that. I figure it roughly amounted to (PMS x 500)12. Or thereabouts. I was a little distracted for an accurate calculation.
In addition, it was damn near impossible to break physical contact with my husband. I half expected to take bits of him with me when we finally peeled me off. Felt like if I left to go to the bathroom I would never see him again. And again, I had full realization and awareness of how completely irrational that was. …But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t gonna’ try to hold it as long as possible.
(all in my head, my ass)
I figure that should be the worst it’s going to get though, right? From here I should be gradually leveling out I would think, until eventually I actually respond like a regular human. If it says anything, it was so comically bad last night that my husband made arrangements to work from home today. Having him here is helpful. Calming. I guess it helps to feel like someone in the house has got things under control. And he is somewhat more responsible than my cats. …At least when it comes to bill paying and such. He may be moderately less assertive on the bug front. I haven’t been tracking.
So I’m riding it out for a while. I’m not sure how things will go when he has to leave the house again. I feel like a bit of a freak for admitting that, but also laughably certain that it’s not my fault, so I guess it’s okay. While he’s here, I feel like the Luvox is messing with my system. While he’s gone, I feel much more like there’s just something wrong with me. He makes it much easier to be calm and empathetic. I do, as a note, have just about the most wonderful man on the planet. He was so totally patient and supportive and understanding through the craziness last night. He put on soothing music, and some calming scented oils, and turned on all the lights for me (I like a little light – he likes it dim), and let me follow him around like a puppy. And when it became apparent that I needed to follow him around like a puppy, just started taking my hand whenever he needed to go somewhere so that we could go together and I’d know it was fine. Good man. And he really does catch his share of houseflies, even if he doesn’t often eat them.
At any rate, I’m absolutely ecstatic in anticipation of having things back to normal again. And I am never, ever, ever, ever, EVER mixing an SSRI with my body chemistry again. Please remind me of this if ever I decide otherwise.
