There are so many thoughts bursting to have their turn at being put into writing tonight, from the do-over trip to Asheville to the countless random observations from my day at work today that beg to be further examined. But all I can think right now is that five minutes ago, I took a pill. A tiny, tasteless pill that I tossed back without the usually-required assistance of water. It was taken dutifully, but not without a pang of resignation.
Things are going back to where they were over the summer, and whereas it was previously only lying down at the end of the day that sent me into irrational panic—manageable at least in its predictability—now it’s merely nightfall and the accompanying darkness that does the trick. Now it’s a passing thought that sends me back, no longer just in the privacy of my room, but also at school and at work. It’s noticeable and it’s getting worse, and I know better than to try to tough it out this time.
Over the summer, I reluctantly allowed the Psych Spectacular to write a prescription, but I took the pills for all of five days and never could make myself go back to them. No real reason, no more than there was almost a year before, when I managed to stay on the happy pill train for a whopping three months. I don’t have a good track record with meds, and the PS takes care to tread lightly when it comes to the subject. I know how she feels about it, and she knows how I feel about it. To me, it’s a last resort and one that I don’t want in the least. Still, she finds ways to make her point.
“It’s hard to hear that you had such a good day – to remember you sitting here beaming and talking about your future – and to know that twenty-four hours later, a flashback dropped you this far down … The meds would just be short-term, just to give you an edge over this stuff, a little relief … It’s not defeat, Inky, and it’s not a cop-out; you do so much on your own to work through this … And it’s not to drug you up. You know I’m not going to let that happen.”
In less than a minute, she can nail all of my concerns. Long-term dependence. Taking the easy way out. Becoming a zombie. And finally, sitting curled up on the couch across from her last week and petting TherapyCat to try to hide how much it killed me to say it, I simply whispered, “I give.”
Two months, she said. Just give it two months to start with. I considered whether this was a promise I could keep, and slowly agreed. Two months.
Tonight, the pride was harder to swallow than the pill itself.
fromthesamesky said
Hey inky, I just want to say well done. It must have been really hard for you to make this decision, and I think you deserve a lot of credit for it. Maybe you were swallowing your pride – but I am proud of you for doing it.
Dingo said
You know, it’s not like the pills are a panacea. You still have to do the work. They just help you get to the place where you *can* do the work. And anyway, zombies are in right now. Kidding! You’re not going to turn into a zombie. BUT, if you do, don’t eat my brains, okay?
Vegetable Assassin said
Yeah those pills are there for a reason and if they help you at all cope with things then they are a good thing. They don’t replace you they help you. They work with you. And you are the boss of them.
Plus, how’d you get to write so well for someone barely out of diapers?
inkpuddle said
Leave it to me to write a post like that and then find myself without Internet for a few days. Bah.
Thank you, samesky. I’d been kicking the idea around again and (after much good-natured poking from the PS) just kind of said, “Eh, why not?” We’ll see how long it lasts after the two months are up.
Dingo, mmmm, braaaaains … I had a similar thought as I was filling the ‘script, that if I’m going to turn into a zombie, now’s the time to do it!
Veggie, I should add that to my official title: “Boss of the Pills.” And thanks – it must have been all those Baby Einstein videos.
Steam me up kid said
I’ve been there. It feels like giving up, I know, but maybe think of it as being proactive. I took Zoloft for about a year, and it did help, and when I went off, I was able to use the skills that had unintentionally become habit while on the meds, like waiting before getting angry, and putting the anxiety in perspective. The panic was tougher, that required cognitive behavioral therapy. Still does.
Welcome to the Becky club. Soon, we will have an army of Beckys/Rebeccas/Becks and we will defeat something huge and evil. That part’s TBD right now. I prefer Becks too, myself. Would you like to go as Inky or Becks on my sidebar?
inkpuddle said
Ooooh, I get the sidebar treatment? Hot dayum. Inky will suffice, methinks.
And frankly, I’m so chilled out and smiley on the happy pills already that I’m wondering why the heck I didn’t bite the bullet sooner (and dammit but the PS totally told me that would happen … guess who gets to say “I told you so”???). Seriously, it’s another post unto itself, but this stuff? It’s like I’m seeing in color again, when I didn’t even know the world had gone black-and-white. It’s weeeeeeeird. But cool.
fromthesamesky said
Hey Inky, just wondering how you are doing – not seen you post (anywhere) for a while, just concerned. Thinking of you,
xx
inkpuddle said
Oh, look at you being all sweet and stuff (she says, fighting the natural aversion to kindness…). I have been absolutely SWAMPED with schoolwork and my boss leaving the company, plus increased hours at work, side job interviews, and the requisite family crapola. I am all right…tired and strung out on happy pills, but all right.
And yeah, Letters to a Psych has been absolutely DEAD. I have a gazillion posts ready to roll (for both here AND there), if I could just put those final touches on ‘em. I’m hoping once I get the brunt of the schoolwork dealt with, I’ll have a few extra minutes to actually return to the blogosphere. Yipes. Multitasking FAIL.
fromthesamesky said
*grin* – am great at being difficult
You sound very very busy! I hope things settle down soon, and you can have a bit more rest. xx
David said
Ah! I see the trick to finding you is for me to use Firefox instead of IE7. Geez.
I’m glad that things are less rocky — that PS knows what she’s doing.
The end of the semester must be approaching with Apocalypse-like speed … I bet you’re looking forward to a break.
inkpuddle said
Samesky – Busy? Check. Crazy? Double-check.
David, indeed she does. And yes, the semester is frighteningly close to being over. Frighteningly close. But a break is much anticipated.