the anxiety of happiness

wonder

Yesterday started rough. I needed to clear everything out of my old office and get settled in the new much more isolated one. Taking down pictures, it killed me.

I’ve been planning on pushing down my doses of Adderall, but it is so hard for me. Choose the day you would like to intensely concentrate on killing yourself, thanks.

Anyways, yesterday was one of those days. However, I said fuck it. I took a bit more, got up to 45 mg and certainly didn’t feel happy. But I wasn’t overwhelmed with each step. My mind gets into these loops, I preservative, always about the worst possible causes or outcomes. I am asked to move because I am disposable. And the thought was overwhelming and constant. Adderall doesn’t quiet my mind, but it allows me to focus on the outside world even if my head is chaos.

Yesterday Adderall helped, a lot. And yet, just a week ago I blogged saying it was poison. I wonder the true impact of these medications. I so desperately want to find the cause, to solve it. Rationally, I am fully aware that is not how it will work, but my mind, my mind still scrambles to fix it.

Regardless, the past couple days have been okay to good. And that is god damn incredible.

Last night, a fucking nightmare. Apparently three or four days ago I ran out of Effexor XR (Venlafaxine), didn’t even notice it. Last night I threw up nine times. Brain zaps occurred in waves and were at most a minute apart. I felt like I was about to shit my pants for a solid nine hours. Shivering, sweating, crying – it was a good time for all.

Today I’ve been good, not okay, but good. I write less when I am doing well, I just don’t think about my mood as much. In the depths of my lows I know it will never end. Good days, like today, I dread going to bed. What if I don’t get this tomorrow? I am probably having a good day because my body is relieved to have Effexor again.

Regardless, as I lay down tonight anxiety will set in, who will I be tomorrow? I’ll wonder if I get another day as that kind calm person I used to know. I like him. I miss him so.

 

 

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the anxiety of happiness

2 thoughts on “the anxiety of happiness

  1. Wait, why are you the one adjusting your meds? That can’t put you on any type of regular cycle. I mean, yeah, my meds do nothing for the bipolar depression and squelch total and complete ability to be productive or excited about anything. But at least I have a constant level of blahness.

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  2. I did the venlafaxine withdrawal in December. It was pure.fucking.hell. I’m so glad you’re feeling a bit better and if you wake up tomorrow morning and don’t feel good, please know you are not alone. I have no idea of who I’ll be by lunchtime…. let alone tomorrow

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