Thursday, May 31, 2012

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.

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