I want to write. I really do, despite how infrequently I have been updating. There are things I want to write. And I’m going to. But I feel like I need to do a quick update on what is going on with me first.
I want to write such sexy things
A little over two months ago, I made an appointment with a psychiatrist to get some specialized help with my medication. What I was on for the last year hadn’t been cutting it when it comes to controlling my anxiety, and it was leaving me lethargic besides. This shrink immediately prescribed Effexor, and so I started taking it. What the shrink neglected to tell me was, that, if it doesn’t work, Effexor is hell to get out of your system.
I’m seeing a different psychiatrist now, one who focuses on on not just my brain-chemicals, but also overall body health. She seems be more interested in how things work for me personally rather than picking a pill off the top of the list. And together we’re weaning me off of this crap.
I’m looking at at least another couple of months to wean off of this shit, and it is playing hell with my nerves and emotions. Wednesday I was quite literally wrecked; I wrote my last update in fits as I was sobbing. Conversely, today, I am on a higher dose, I feel more or less okay (accepting a level of baseline anxiety that I’m “getting used” to living with.)
I am doing okay though. Thanks everyone for your kind comments and support.