Keeping my eye on the goal

Admittedly, this is a tough time for me. Last month, when I weaned off the Pristiq, I hoped that I might have been cured of depression. After all, I was on antidepressants for almost ten years. It’s not to be and I’ve come to believe the doctors were right that I’m one of those unlucky people that will suffer depression their entire life. That’s not a happy thought as I am currently in the throes of depression. However, when I am being treated properly, I can handle the diagnosis much better. I had a good run of a few years of high functioning but now it feels like the world is crashing in around me. My worst enemy is my own thoughts that impede my search for positivity and peace.

The Prednisone taper didn’t do anything for my headache so, after convincing my doctor I was still in the range of pain being 8-10, she prescribed a pain medication.  Now I’m taking Tylenol3 (because Percocet can’t be faxed to the pharmacy and I get a rash from Vicodon).  My doctor thinks the headache is not a migraine because it didn’t respond to the steroid.  So, I may be suffering one of those lovely side effects, this time from my antibiotic that I’m taking for sinusitis.  Tomorrow I’ll see how I feel when I stop taking it because by the time my Doc told me this today I had already taken the once-a-day pill. 

I see Linda first thing in the morning.   Am I the only one who dreads these therapy visits, hating to open up my inner world for the therapist to decipher?  I never cry in therapy but I feel like tomorrow may be a first.  My mood is shaky and unstable right now.  With all these medications in my blood stream, how could I feel normal?   45 minutes every 2 weeks just doesn’t feel like enough and I’m afraid to ask for more visits.  Why is it that I feel unworthy of help? Linda off-handedly said she would not be available every weekend as if to say, I can make some time for you but not every week.  If I ask for additional sessions I’m afraid she’ll say no and then I’ll feel stupid for asking.  It’s easier to pretend I can manage on my own and then suffer alone. I know I shouldn’t put myself down; she is the person that took me off Pristiq so she has a responsibility to help me through the consequences. Maybe I will get the courage to ask for more sessions.

Depression is funny the way it can intrude into your thinking to a point where you can’t remember what it’s like to feel happy.  It’s not been that long since I was feeling great and it already seems distant and faint.  If only I could capture that sense of peace again! Perhaps getting off of the Pristiq was a bad idea.  Maybe I should settle for being overweight and an alcoholic, which were the negative side-effects that made me want to get off of Pristiq to begin with.   The little voice inside is whispering in my ear stick with the therapist and the previously agreed upon plan to find a new antidepressant.  I must remind myself I initially went to Linda because I was recently diagnosed with high blood pressure which I want to tackle without medication.  In order to do that I must lose weight and cut back on my drinking. Today, as I waited at CVS for my Rx to get filled I tried out the blood pressure machine and discovered my BP is still high, 158/99. I will keep my eye on the goal, trudging through the fog of depression until I see the light which I must believe is at the end of the tunnel. When I arrive, I will be better and stronger for having survived this piece of time in my life.

What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.

Friedrich Nietzsche

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