I thought this final decrease down to no Effexor would feel the same as the other decreases. I was wrong. Really fucking wrong. It’s a hundred times worse.
I wish I was able to describe it. I don’t have the energy. When my SO found me in bed sobbing with my head rammed between two pillows he brought me my special can. Two pipes smoked out my bedroom window later, It didn’t stop my brain seizures but I stopped crying and consumed a shit ton of Doritos.
The soundtrack of trainspotting might as well be pumping through my veins.
I’ve been wanting to go to the pharmacy to get my pills. Maybe just one every other day would help but I can’t. I don’t want to.
Who the fuck would ever prescribe someone something that crushes your brain when you stop taking it?!
Makers of Effexor I want you to suck a two week unwashed and ungroomed dick. One that’s been living in spandex bike shorts. And running marathons during a heat wave. That would be better than what I’m going through.
I’d like to thank autocorrect for making my sentences complete and legible. I’d like to thank Jameson vitamins for making melatonin because sleeping for the next few days is the only way I can see myself surviving this hell.
Today was the day. My first day of no anti-depressants at all. Today was not supposed to be the day, it was supposed to be next week. I took my last one yesterday and my doctor gave me another weeks worth which were sitting at the pharmacy waiting for me to pick up. My withdrawal from the last ween down is done and I know more withdrawal from quitting all together is inevitable so I thought, why delay it? Let’s just get this shit over with. So, today is the day. It’s been nine years, three different pill brands, two psychiatric hospital visits, one suicide attempt and countless tears and no it’s over. I’m proud of myself for being able to get off Effexor on my own when most others can’t and I’m proud of making the tough decision to quit them.
I’ve been feeling really well and have seen my mood improve as the dosage of the pills went down. My anxiety has been under control as well which is surprising but pleasing. I’m not under any false pretenses that things will be rosy for me forever after and if I need to, I’ll get help again. Until then I will ride this personal experiment. Did anti-depressants for anxiety cause my depression or did my depression happen coincidentally simultaneously. I’m a fucking scientist now.
I’m thinking of throwing myself an “I’m off anti-depressants” party but that seems like a lot of work. Plus, you know, they’re be people to socialize with.
We’ve facilitated a photovoice project with the work I do once before and a second round is currently underway but I’ve never gone to see another group’s exhibit.
For those who don’t know, photovoice is a creative outlet used around the world to give marginalized populations a way to express themselves and feel heard. The participants are given a disposable camera and take pictures of whatever they wish. The participants then decide how they would like to share the photos (exhibit, calendar, website etc).
The exhibit I attended tonight had lots of local press and an incredible turn out including clients, citizens, agencies and the ward’s city council member. The photos alone would have been enough but the messages written beside them were poignant. Some of the pictures were of pay by the hour motels as seen in the daylight, some showed pictures of pets that people felt were their greatest supporters and givers of love, and others were of the places that had provided them with food when they had none.
As longer term readers might have picked up on by now, I am distrustful of the police as a whole. I have seen far too many examples of abuse of power, threatening, coercion and blackmail to believe otherwise. Tonight I learned that in an effort to curb the sex trade, the police in my city successfully lobbied the pay phone company to turn off the pay phones at night in the neighborhoods which are known to have sex work occur. The police think that this will decrease sex work. The reality is of course that they have made inoperable one of the sole ways many people have to call for help should they need it. Fuck da police.
In other news of new things I’ve tried: I have now become one of those people who brings their own chopsticks to a Japanese restaurant.
I was reading a news article last week which mentioned a yik yak bullying incident in a school. I didn’t have a fucking clue what a yik yak was and had to look it up. Just what the world needs, another fucking social media platform. For those as equally as above 35 and not trendy as I am, yik yak allows you to anonymously make a post which people can upvote/down vote or comment on. It is all locally based. It looks like this:
I suppose it could be useful if say, you lose your car in the mall parking lot in the rain and you want to post a message looking for someone willing to drive you around to look for it. Or maybe you lost your hairy wiener dog Frank and are desperately trying to see his glossy coat flowing in the breeze again.
While these are actually all incredibly practical uses of this app, it’s mostly used to tell jokes or find people who are dtf.
Social media is all getting a bit much for me. You can follow yik yak on Instagram which you can share on your Facebook and people can retweet the whole damn thing. What happened to the good old days when people looked at pictures of cats riding unicorns shooting laser rainbows from their eyes and then taking a break to tweak the toucan while watching porn. I miss the good old days.
That yak logo is fucking adorable though. When you pull down to refresh he spins his cute little head around and around. Look at him go.
I first became a vegan after watching “meet your meat” and I wanted to share it with others. Many people I knew purposely wouldn’t watch it because they wanted to continue eating meat without feeling guilty. some people purposely avoid seeing the details of things so they don’t have to change and some people simply don’t know what they don’t know.
Today I watched another documentary that helped me to make the decision that I want to avoid all Chinese products. As any North American knows, this is no small feat. I’ve thought about trying this before… When they poisoned babies with toxic formula, killed dogs with tainted food, made toys with lead paint and installed fences on the roofs of their factories to avoid the suicides of the underpaid and desperate workers. One would think this would have been enough for me but apparently not. I avoid the Chinese grown garlic and occasionally Apple juice (don’t kid yourself North Americans, all Apple juice contains Chinese grown apples) but it’s not enough. Their non existent environmental controls, lackluster labour laws and quashing of religious freedoms and filtering of available information.
Before watching “10 questions for the Dalai lama” I was completely ignorant about his ousting by the Chinese government and the take over of Tibet and the murder of more than 1 million Tibetans. Chinese government you are fucking bullshit and do not deserve another penny of my money. North American governments: “free trade” is also bullshit. Are the Chinese buying all our made in America products? No, you’re just supporting their regime and lining the pockets of the 1% who send all the jobs to China for cheap labour. I’m very curious to see if this post gets any views from China. I think the very mention of the Dalai Lama is enough that Google will censor it out.
Unrelated: day 3 of withdrawal.
Feels like there is a burlap sack of flaccid dicks twerking in my brain. Yeah, that sounds like a party but trust me it’s not.
The withdrawal symptoms from the first of my ween down from Effexor have been gone for at least week and I’m my new normal. Yesterday (the 21st) I started phase two which now has me taking one-third of what I originally took. I know in another day or so more withdrawal symptoms will be heading my way but I coped with the first round so I can’t imagine it being any worse. We’ll see. Another dr.’s appointment tomorrow, she likes to check in with me regularly. Ever since I tried to kill myself in the summer I find her receptionist has been much friendlier.
My alcohol reduction has been going well too. In a couple weeks I only had one drink. Last night I went out to my favourite mexican place and had a margarita, which turned into two margaritas. When I say “a” margarita I should specify that I drink doubles. After dinner a friend and I went to wander around a bookstore and by that time I was not drunk but buzzed. I love books, and I love walking around bookstores. I’m a bit of a bookstore whore, I just can’t say no. My bank account said no but the margaritas said yes. In the end the margaritas won.
Exciting right?! I can’t wait to get them open and disrobe them with my eyes. If you love books you’ll understand. I would have loved to have started them last night but I was so tired I went right to bed. Goodbye Effexor, goodbye insomnia! Unfortunately my dreams the last two nights haven’t been good but I’ll work on that. Maybe thinking of rainbows and glitter before bed will help. I’ll harness the power of Lisa Frank.
Let’s start with the good part of the night. A couple days ago I was looking back on old facebook videos I had posted of my kids. They were funny, cute and made me reminisce about happier times. I realized I hadn’t taken any videos of them lately so I compiled a list of eight questions that I asked them individually. I enjoyed their responses and am glad that I documented it. The kids loved doing it and doing something unique made me feel like a good parent. I haven’t felt like a good parent lately. I haven’t felt much like a good anything lately.
I’ve been managing just fine. I make it in to work, I do what I need to do. Minimal anxiety and crying. No cutting, hardly any alcohol at all. Some purging but I can’t change everything all at once. Managing isn’t the same as doing well though. My children don’t go hungry but they did have pizza two nights in a row for dinner. I’m sure I don’t play with them or read to them enough. After work I just want to be alone but of course I can’t. I went away for the weekend and my suitcase is still laying out and messy. Last weeks laundry is still not put away. I feel like I’m never good enough and I know I can be better but I don’t have the energy or ambition to do it. I feel like my spouse is always angry with me because I don’t do enough. I don’t blame him. It’s unfair of me to be living here and not equally working toward the maintenance of the home. That is what I miss most about living alone. Not feeling guilty about letting people down.
Now I’m crying. I don’t know why. I’m going to bed. I’ve been sleeping really well lately with the assistance of melatonin to help me fall asleep. I’ve been having good dreams. I’ve been happy in my dreams. I used to take one melatonin to fall asleep, then a couple weeks ago it went to two. Tonight I took three. My bottle is almost empty. It’s natural though so no harm done.
My favourite time of day is when I start to get tired and my thoughts turn just peculiar enough to realize that I’m falling asleep and dreams are on their way. Good dreams. Dreams where I laugh, feel loved and am happy.