Tag Archives: antidepressants

Here’s To The Heartache

I feel like I’m coming full circle; that I am back where I was roughly eight (?) years ago when I started taking these damn pills. 

I’m one misspoken word away from tears, being overwhelmed by my own emotion. 

That’s part of my own self-assessment though on my path of recovery. (I don’t think recovery, from a substance abuse perspective is a place that you get to… it’s the road we follow that can show us wonderful things if we let it.)

Maybe I’ll come to the realization that I do, in fact, need the pills. But until that time, I need to get rid of some of my venom to know for sure. Deal with my emotions instead of chemically alter myself so that those emotions don’t find their way to the surface. 

The Wean

This week has been pretty rough. I’ll get into it a little more when my head is clearer and I can write but there have been all kinds of weird things going on. 

The most recent withdrawal symptom I’m experiencing is that while I’m falling asleep or have unwittingly dropped off I keep having this feeling, this terrifying feeling, that there are supernatural forces existing in both my dream as well as real life and that my life is at risk.  

The transition effects of an SNRI on my unconscious brain have been quite awe-inspiring and over-the-top. While going on them is very ‘interesting’, weaning off of them is quite the opposite. My dreams are detailed and very dark. And they get darker yet. 

We All Began As Something Else

I’ve decided to go off my anti-depressant medication.

I was winding down on all of my medications while we were in Hawaii and was due for a refill on everything when we got back. I had about ten capsules left of the half dose on my Effexor and I thought, “why do I even take these now?” I thought some more about it; I became an alcoholic while on these pills so they couldn’t have really been doing anything for me anyway.

I’m weaning off my full dosage for the next two weeks by taking only one of the half dose pills and then will spend (hopefully) two weeks of weaning off the half dose by taking nothing at all. My brain and I could be totally clean by the middle of March.

  Also, I’m thinking about getting another tattoo. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and struggled with what I should get because I feel like the tattoo should have meaning. So I haven’t ever got any ink done because I couldn’t figure that part out. But, with this recent vacation to Hawaii and exposure to Hawaiian/Polynesian culture, I think I have inspiration.

It was during the aquarium luau that I felt the most challenged since quitting drinking back in November. It was really hard but I feel like getting through it was a real success for me… that it was a battle won. It was a moment where my inner strength exceeded the challenge.

I remember watching the Polynesian show after dinner where the tattooed performers danced various traditional Polynesian dances. Eventually, they got around to New Zealand and did a Maori haka which really struck a chord in me.

Now, if you haven’t ever seen a Maori haka… well, you’re missing out. The haka is an ancestral dance described as both a war cry and a challenge at the same time. I’m no expert on it so I’ll leave it up to you to Google it for information but it’s my opinion that there aren’t any words that can effectively portray it. Now, I believe that the vast majority of hakas that are performed are purely that, a performance. One of the few times you’re probably going to get to see an actual war haka is one performed by New Zealand’s All-Blacks rugby team immediately prior to a match. I’ll let you decide what you think about a haka performed by two dozen big fucking rugby dudes who want to dislodge your head from your body playing one of the roughest sports on the planet:

https://youtu.be/bUZJyZldy10

Anyway, getting back on topic; it all seemed fitting, to capture this struggle with a tattoo as Polynesians invented the tattoo and my first real battle would happen in Hawaii. I feel that I should embrace the culture and its impact on me by marking my body with a sign of my power and inner strength as a reminder of that day. 

I know that the luau won’t be my only challenge for the rest of my life. I have been thinking of making my body a journal the battles in my war against alcoholism. My goal isn’t to turn myself into a walking tattoo man (I do have a full time career) but rather to permanently document my war.