Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: depression

  • To Get Off Or Not

    I started taking an anti-depressant at the end of the year called Citalopram (Celexa). I wasn’t really sure it was a good idea but I was in a bad place and was looking for a way out. My regular doctor did an annual “how are you doing” survey on me last fall and suggested it… it wasn’t until the end of the year I took it, I was very reluctant.seemed. The reluctancy comes from a few places.

    First my Mother was crazy… not diagnosed crazy, but a hypochondriac it … Actually seeing how things have played out with my siblings its possible she had real medical issues and mental issues and was never diagnosed or treated properly. But as a kid it appeared as if she were always taking another pill for another made up thing. She never got better, he had peaks and valleys but she’d end up right back where she had been before. This sounds worse than it was… she wasn’t a good mother as in her needs came first – whether it was men, chocolate, romance novels, men or men… we were often a hindrance to what she wanted to do. When we were all teens she sent us all off to live with various relatives she was done. People will say “she did the best she could” but I don’t really buy into that.  (more…)

  • Verifying the Differences

    I’ve chatted a little bit about being on a medication recently for my depression. I’ve always had a depression of some sort, the intensity varied in waves that I was able to navigate through. Until this last fall when it was as if a tidal wave struck me down and the undercurrent was helping me to drown. (Read here: Lost) . This post may be NSFW.

    At the direction of my primary doctor I started to take an anti-depressant in late December (he actually suggested I take it in October, I asked him for the script in early December and finally took one at the end of the year). This happened for a few reasons:

    • I assumed it would go away like all the times before
    • that sense of impending doom that nothing can make it better, a little pill can’t possibly help
    • fear that it would change me
    • fear that it wouldn’t change me
    • fear of ostracization from AA friends
    • and that sense of welcoming the dark feelings, reveling in the comfortable dark

    (more…)

  • Lost

    I took a long journey last year but I didn’t physically go anywhere. In October, maybe even before that, I started to get depressed. Nothing new really – these bouts have come and gone before and I just muddle through and hope for the best as eventually I’ll even out and be fine. I even wrote about it in my blog in November as I had a few good days in a row and I thought I was through the storm… but it was just a brief respite.

    It got progressively worse and then dramatically worse, before I knew it there was so much darkness in everything and I was lost. I didn’t have positive thoughts about anything, it was all I could do to smile at people at meetings or at work if I thought it mattered – most of the time it didn’t.

    I committed without fear to doing things in the future when asked – it wouldn’t matter anyway I wasn’t planning to stick around. I said yes to a trip, yes to a family member, yes to a friend – but I knew that it would be over before then. I was a yes man, because nothing mattered – not one thing in the world. (more…)

  • In the Dark

    A hit of acid can change the world. Everything is brighter, crisper and more defined – you notice variances of color that your eyes would just pass over before. The whole world is a new place that you want to explore and experience. Anything that is normally dull and boring is suddenly the most relevant thing in existence – and the previously wonderful are indescribable. A trip made everything better than alright and nothing could ever stop how that felt (time apparently does 😉 ). That doesn’t include the non-stop smiling or the ability to not feel alcohol’s effects until the trip has ended. I really enjoyed LSD when I could get it and wasn’t committed to a life of sobriety (one day at a time).

    On the flip side, the dark side, in sobriety and real life – depression is the opposite.  (more…)

  • In a Spot

    I’m in a spot. It’s a dark spot. I’d say it was a santorum but nothing really enjoyable immediately preceded the spot. Right now I can’t seem to care about – well anything.

    Yesterday a dear old friend called me from her hospital bed and told me first why she was there and then other troubles going on, but I can’t seem to care about it. I still took steps to spread the word to some of our other friends so she’d get a few calls, but honestly it couldn’t pierce the fog I’ve managed to wade into.

    A few other friends have recently gotten engaged or made their relationship “Facebook Official”, and again it doesn’t seem to matter too much to me. These I understand a bit more having only been a month ago dumped.

    The boss sent me an email and it took me reading it probably more than five times before I saw that he wasn’t firing me, but was worried about me. I’m in a spot. It’s a deep dark spot and I hate it.

    What I hate more than being in a spot is people who complain about being in a spot – so at present I doubly hate myself. I’m going to sit here and whine about this that and the other thing and that really isn’t productive – I hate people like that. But, I’m in a spot, so I’ll probably whine a bit more.

    There a probably lots of things to be happy about: a new Avengers: Earths Mightiest Hero’s is likely downloading tonight or tomorrow, I’ve been able to watch Game of Thrones, I have friends that I’ve known for over 20 years that call me when they are in the hospital cause they know I (normally) care, I have friends that I’ve known almost twenty years that tell me I reacting normally, I have friends… yeah, all those things are probably things that should make me happy, but mostly today all I wanted to do was cry and sleep. Sadly, I’m in a spot.