I look over the most common side effects of Effexor, the anti-depressant I’ve been taking for the past week.
I read the list.
I check off the easy ones. Dry mouth. Changes in appetite. Tremors. Decreased sex drive.
Yes, yes. I have these. Let’s continue.
Then I get to strange dreams.
And I think over the past week. The dream with that giant mutating
spider in my backyard. The dream on the support beams of that cabin,
hiding out from flesh-eating evil elves. The dream of sexually engaging
with that two-headed woman.
I think of the auditory hallucinations that have stirred me from sleep
almost every night recently. The conversations I swear I’m having until
I spring forward. Find myself next to a sleeping body. In a dark
room. No one to converse with.
I think of the moments during the day when someone says something.
Let’s get some coffee. Or, I could use a nap. Or maybe, where is that
kid’s parents? And I have to stop. I have to cease motion and stand
there and scan my memory. Scan my hold on reality. Scan why this all
seems so familiar.
And I think of whether I’m progressing. Whether the steps I’ve taken
have moved me forward. Have increased distance from where I deemed I
needed to leave. From where misery was consuming my life.
Have I changed any?
Am I capable of such a thing?
Is it possible for me to be happy? Actually exist, as one, with happiness? In happiness? As happiness?
And of course there’s that fun section - contact your doctor
immediately if you experience any of the following. And yeah, I
experience them. Who doesn’t?
Mood or behavior changes - check.
Anxiety - check
Trouble sleeping - check
Impulsivity - check
Agitation - check
Restlessness - check
Hyperactivity (mentally or physically) - check
More depressed - check
Right. Looks like I should make that phone call.