As you may have garnered from my last post, I was just possibly a teensy bit overanxious.
The theory is that my Effexor increase also increased the anxiety because it acted too strongly on the norepinephrine, going from 112mg to 150mg. It was supposed to help, but it was like helping construction workers by setting fire to the house.
A month of this, and no improvement. at. all. I mean, anxiety does increase sometimes when you change medicine. Then there was my surprise gallbladder surgery. And the holidays. Surely it could be those instead. But when it still didn’t improve, I asked my psych for help.
I’m back on Lexapro. I had gotten off of it at my OB/GYN’s request, because being pregnant while on an antidepressant is tricky enough, let alone two.
Once we lowered my Effexor, the stratospheric levels of anxiety tapered down in a couple of days. It was a huge relief. The depression still remains, but at least I’m not anxious as hell on top of it.
I think Lexapro may be starting to work. I’m getting these brief moments where I suddenly realize that the weight of the world isn’t sitting on my shoulder, that my thoughts aren’t heavily burdened.
Maybe. The anxiety has increased again, and I have no clue why. It just requires a little extra self-care right now, and a lot of reminders that people are not irritated or upset with me–which is a hard thing to remind myself.
I’m not well, but I’m not terrible either. I’m okay. Ish.
I’m reading “Listening to Prozac” right now–a bargain table find. I expected a dry book, but it’s engaging, and it talks about people becoming “better than well” with the help of Prozac. In essence, people get so used to depression being normal, so when an antidepressant helps to mitigate the worst AND bring them to a more healthy mental state, it feels “better than well.” Then, eventually, they realize it is a state of being well.
And once you feel that state of wellness, it is so wonderful, strange, freeing. Finally, you feel like you can adequately handle the world’s stressors in a healthy way.
The funny thing is that I didn’t realize that there WAS a better state of wellness instead of my old “normal,” which was chronic ennui, depressive and self-defeating thoughts with a dash of futility. That’s how I felt for so damn long, and every time I slip back down to that level, I hate it. It reminds me too much of growing up in my parents’ house, which compounds the problem.
At least I’m somewhat functional right now.
Filed under: Uncategorized