This is a piece I posted on Facebook a year ago today. It was a few weeks into my first hospitalisation, and I had been taken off one of my major antidepressants, and waiting for a new drug, called Zyban, to come up to therapeutic levels. In the meantime I was experiencing a full depressive cycle.
“Have had big chunk of medication, and am feeling more okay again. Was extremely bad there for a long while.
<an hour later>
You guys! I’ve just had the longest, most interesting, and kind chat with a nurse, who came down to see if I was okay, and who helped me talk through how I’ve been feeling, etc. (We also shared grumbles about the food situation.) A truly lovely, friendly chat. Could only have been improved with a coffee with a scenic view. I feel so much better (though that could be heavy-duty meds kicking in). Am all agog at how nice that was. 🙂
Ping Michelle Bedford; Marie Bedford. I’m sorry for worrying or upsetting you, but I was having the worst experience I’ve had in years. I will be talking to the doctor tomorrow about what this means in terms of the trial. Though the fact that I’m now clear of the Clomipramine but not yet at therapeutic levels of the Zyban suggests I might just be crawling through the barbed-wire no-man’s land between the effectiveness curves of two medication regimes.
Anyway, thank you, all, for listening to me tonight. It’s proving much harder a gig than I ever expected.
Oh, and you know what feels really quite strange? You’re walking around the corridors and riding the lift, trying to sort all this out, whilst feeling as though you’re going to melt down if someone so much as blinks at you–but random strangers still compliment me on my monster slippers! “Thank you,” I say, all voice of a ghost, and shuffle on.”
This conveys some of the wretchedness I went through. That was a very bad day indeed, featuring a great deal of crying. When it says I was having the worst experience I could remember in years, I wasn’t kidding.