Remember, I am okay. Nothing happened. I am writing this now. Things are not so dire as it might sound. It's been a rough four weeks or so. I think four. Can't quite recall.
Fall fell. I was supposed to be taking escitaloptram (2.5 mg). This is half of a tiny pill. I destroyed the pill when I tried to halve it. So I took 5 mg instead. And didn't notice any therapeutic effect so I stopped taking entirely. Instead I should have called Psych NP. I know. I know. But I wasn't thinking real clearly. Because when you are Depressed and an antidepressant doesn't help, you should find something that does instead of just shrugging and ceasing to take that medication. What a rookie move. What a bonehead mistake. But without writing there was little self-reflection going on. Then fall hit with the change in light and the change from being home and unscheduled to being at work around MANY people and chaos and Fear of Failing My Students or Doing Something Wrong. And No Exercise. And no add-on antidepressant. Because I stopped taking it. Without letting anyone know. Should it then be surprising that I kinda tanked? No. Writing this now it is COMPLETELY predictable. This is the part you should not read. In the past month I was probably worse off Depression-wise than I have been in a LONG LONG LONG time. I know this because instead of just feeling Down and worthless and hopeless, I was mildly suicidal. See, I told you not to read this. The mildly part is important. I had no plan. I hadn't thought about a method. I had no time table. I was making no preparations. Mild. Still, a crappy place to be. And I would drop hints. Like the only reason I was sticking around was because I knew other people would not be better off without me. Or that I was ready to be done. I didn't talk about death. I just talked about not "being there." Which I guess is deliberately ambiguous. I was not/am not actively pursuing my own death. But I thought if a house fell on me, or if I were struck by lightening, or if I could just stop breathing, that would be preferable to remaining alive. Because I was ready to be done. Ready to not fight. Ready to not breathe or have a heart that beats so fast even when I'm meant to be resting. I thought I would always feel that way. And always be Down. And keep going lower. Until there was nothing left of me but the air in my lungs and my stupid, beating heart. Ugh this is hard to write. Stop reading. I know when the Downs get bad I shouldn't listen to my brain. Because my Depressed brain is a lying liar. And it wants to kill me. Which the not-Depressed me cannot support. Since I am actually awesome. Just high-maintenance. Unfortunately. Something (I don't know what... maybe reading my frightening posts... maybe realizing that I was suicidal and not wanting that to get worse...) made me remember my action plan for when the Depression super sucks. 1. take lurasidone 2. call Psych NP So I did both of those. And here is the miraculous thing... The day after taking the lurasidone I was not incapacitated by Depression. I also discovered that the lamotrigine I was taking had been switched when I renewed the prescription. You'd think I would notice that the pills had changed color. Instead of taking one 200 mg pill (blue) I was supposed to be taking two 100 mg pills (white.) This means that I had been taking half the does of my mood stabilizer that has an anti-depressant effect and none of the add-on antidepressant. NOT SMART. Not on purpose either. So here is the new plan. Knowing that I don't like to be on lurasidone long-terms (like to have it in my pocket as an emergency med and not really liking how it makes me feel other than the part where my brain is no longer murderous)... I need to take 20 mg lurasidone for one month along with 10 mg escitalopram together with my 200 mg of lamotrigine. I know in an earlier post I said I would only take meds that start with L. The punchline is that the brand name for escitalopram is Lexapro. Ha. Have an appointment scheduled with Psych NP for 1 month from now. Have my new meds. Brain is working. Not suicidal. But I need to remember all of this. That's why I am writing it. Don't worry. I am still here. No plans to leave. Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |