Tuesday, October 05, 2010

This medication change is rather kicking my ass.

The prozac is most likely fully out of my system now - a month of no Prozac means that half life has worn off and that I am only on this new med - Pristiq.

I felt good for a couple of days. A little more energy, and I slept almost through out the night like most normal human beings. I felt hopeful. Didn't feel too bad, and no obvious crying or other lethargy.

Then my period arrived late last week and my whole bio-chemistry collapsed.

When Terrance arrived home last night at midnight, there I was - weeping in my bed. At first I think he just thought I was being moody and temperamental and tried to cajole me out of a "mood" - until I snapped.

I suspect there is a tone in my voice. I can't verify that because I don't exactly hear it, but I think he must. His instinct is to comfort me, which I want, but I don't. Isn't that a bitch? I want to be held and comforted, but I can't stand to be touched. The very thing that is soothing me makes me want to wrestle myself away from you and lock myself in a dark place. The more I am touched, the more I want to rage against you.

The poor man came home bearing gifts, for today is our 14th wedding anniversary. I was curled into a sobbing ball,  daring him to touch me. The glory of marriage, folks.

A couple of weeks ago I asked him why. I asked how. How can you love me? Why have you not left my crazy ass? I can not see the benefit to him at these times. I do not cook. I rarely clean. I am frequently completely self absorbed in the cavern of my own mind. I can be miserable and sexually withholding.

"I just do", he said.

And so I cry and cry and cry. I feel worthless and unworthy of love. I sleep but am exhausted and fall back to sleep after waking up. I can pull myself together for long enough to emerge from the house every few days, before I sink back into my refuge.  While I don't want to kill myself - my survival instinct is far greater than nearly every other impulse in my brain, some kind of safety valve placed in me at birth that dictates that I MUST KEEP GOING - I do want to disappear.  While I feel desperately lonely, I can not bear to be in anyone's company. Both of the edges of the sword are cutting me while I watch dispassionately at my bleeding.

The small, logical Dawn remaining pipes up to say the medication needs more time to work. That switching over can take a couple of weeks to truly filter through the brain and see if this will all be set to rights.

Self critical Dawn? She steps in during this time too. This is her heyday, her shining moment. She tells me how self indulgent and lazy I am. That I am choosing to be upset. That if I put my mind to it and got busy than I would be fine, but no. You are too lazy and selfish and self absorbed to even try. That when Terrance does leave - as everyone always eventually does leave me - it is because I deserve it. I further deserve it for stopping a medication which wasn't entirely working, but was working better than this. See? Change is Wrong. Change is Bad.

And so I wait. Small. Exhausted. Lonely. Angry.

I wait for medication to stop this coup in my brain.

10 Baleful Regards:

Unknown said...

Couple of weeks? You know better. Couple of months to see full effects. And the line that he will leave you because eventually everyone does, that is one of the most painful things for a partner to hear. It belittles us and the relationship that we have with "you" that is independent and unique from everyone else.
I don't want to waste anymore time telling you things that I know you know! Keep moving, and thank baby jebus for that safety valve!

Nancy said...

Thinking of you, my dear.

miss selene said...

i'm crying with you

Kirsten said...


You will figure out what works for you soon. Either on this med or another. Hopefully this one will straighten itself out asap!

Jaelithe said...

Hey Dawn, I just like you. Just how you are. I just do.

So do a lot of other people. Terrance isn't crazy. Well, not for loving you anyway. Maybe for shutting the cat in the linen closet. But no one is perfect.

Jack & Jane said...

It's amazing the tricks the chemicals in our brain can play on us. As someone who only knows you through this blog, I can say you are easily one of the most interesting & smart ladies I've come across. And I assume this blog is only a tiny snapshot of you. My point: of course you husband loves you despite these hick-ups. You're clearly a loving, passionate, fascinating person. You'll make it through this - you know you will. Until then, we're all here for you, so write, write, write!

MarciaAnn said...

you're logical brain has no feelings; I think our logical brains are related somehow; I hear those tapes play in my head too. Take heart, those of us who have never met in person love you too!

Weather this storm out as you would a typical Nor'easter in NH, hunker down, it too shall pass and this is not a hill to die on! (metaphorically speaking)

J said...

I also take Pristiq now. It did take at least 10 days for it to start having an effect; then after a month or so the effects were different. However, during the initial 10 days I was distracted by the crazy side effects that started immediately, like dialated pupils, dizziness, and complete hormone shifts. My gyno even commented that Pristiq resets some hormones, so it takes about a month for your body to sort things out. HANG IN THERE! Prozac put me to sleep when I took it; that's how I knew it wasn't for me.

Anonymous said...

Dawn, I continue to be in awe of your skill as a parent, as well as the courage you display in talking about this stuff in public. We share a little material in common (family history, careers as writers, heck, even a star sign), but honestly, I just would never have the nerve. A part of me thinks you're effing crazy to do so (Reveal my weaknesses in public? Show people precisely where they can stick the shiv for maximum damage? NEVER! It gives me hives just to think about it…). But the rest of me admires the hell out of you for letting the light shine on the darker aspects of your soul and serving as an example to others of how to do the hard stuff. As a relatively new mother to a daughter myself, I am only now just starting to get a taste of how elemental one's love is for a kid, how deeply it grabs you, and how fiercely you want to protect them. But I gotta tell you: that Emily is damn lucky to have you as a mother. Issues and all. Brava, my dear. Would that we all could have had mothers like you.

Harry/Sally said...

Hang in there. Don't give up, not on yourself, or meds, or Terence, or anything at all until the meds KICK IN as they say. Who knows how long it will take? But we who have hoped meds will help also know it will take some time, in the meantime we feel more or less crazed, like shit and guilty-guilty-guilty. (I thought that was just me, but I see not)

Courage, mon vieux. . .

◄Design by Pocket