Yeah, so the title is a little misleading, but it is true.  I debated whether I was going to write this blog or not, as I wasn't sure anybody would find it interesting, but since Eshel is asking us to be more open, I decided to sally forth.

It's going to take a while, to write and to read.  I hope Eshel likes it.

About a week ago I blogged about my use of anti-depressants (see "Where Have All The Wonder Drugs Gone?").  I have been on them for several years, and over the last few months have switched around looking for one that will work better for me.

I remember when I started using anti-depressants for the second time.  I was talking to my doctor, telling him that I had bouts of depression, was quick to anger (real fist-clenching, hole in the wall anger), and was generally irritated all of the time.  He said, "You just want to feel like yourself again, right?"

And at the time I thought he had hit the nail on the head.  I knew that I wasn't this narcissistic asshole who flew into a rage every time somebody interrupted me.  I wasn't this paranoid freak who took every criticism as the be-all and end-all to my relationship with the critic.  If a drug could even me out, that's the way I should be, right?

Well, it worked for several years.  I stopped thinking conspiratorial thoughts about my co-workers and bosses.  I began to learn to take things in stride, not letting the little things get to me.  And I became laid back.  And back.  And baaaaccckkk.

Within the last year or so, I started having the bouts of depression again.  Every four to eight weeks, someone would say something, or the bank would charge me another fucking overdraft fee, and my mood would instantly hit the downswing.  For the rest of the day I would become steadily more listless, more hopeless.  I would get irritated, because damn it, that fucking idiot that can't find the seasoned green beans shouldn't be so stupid.

I also got to the point where I didn't care.  I don't care if the electric bill is late, the lights are still on.  I don't care if the sewer bill is late, I'll pay off the lien on the house next month.  I don't care if I'm 45 minutes late to work, nobody notices.

Well, I came to realize recently that the person I had become was not me.  I was lethargic, lazy (a word I absolutely fucking hate when applied to me), uncaring, and generally un-spectacular.  I used to have flashes of spectacularity.  Now I had flashes of hurrying to the bathroom before I pissed myself.

The most current prescription that I have been using is Paxil.  My sister in law had used it, and had beaucoups problems when she went off of it cold turkey.  None while she was using it, though.

I have never been susceptible to the "May Cause Drowsiness" feature of drugs before, but Paxil really put the brakes on me when I slowed down.  I felt I could sleep all day.  It was in the two months that I used it that I really started realizing how little I was doing.  I also got hooked on eBaum's (damn this site!) and starting spending a couple hours a day on it at work.

I realized I had to change.  I had no motivation, was going in the wrong direction in my job performance, and nothing was getting done at home.  So I stopped taking it.

I might as well break this up before I get cut.  More to come.