I’m back home, immersed in my normal life again, and I have started my bumpy withdrawal from Effexor again.
I feel like I’m taking myself to the repair shop. Again. Maybe I’m one of those models that Consumer Reports would rate as a “lemon,” because I have so many issues that just aren’t easy to fix. And as soon as I fix one thing, another thing doesn’t work right. (This is where a cheerier,…
Over the course of six days, I go from doing extremely well to a sick, quivering mess. Now I have to crawl back, again.
Pause those efforts to build healthy routines. Stop processing old trauma. Don’t worry about emotional healing. It’s withdrawal time.
Over the past six weeks, I’ve been working with a new psych nurse to clean up my overly medicated brain.
Yesterday and today, my whole life is defined by medication changes. It’s all-consuming. I step back and look at myself in surprise, noticing I sleep in 15 minute increments, then wake up I can’t stop trembling or twitching, and it’s much worse in bed, when my muscles are more relaxed I’m cold, no, wait, I’m…
If my depression is not like scarlet fever, then maybe it’s like an auto-immune disorder; the brain attacking itself.