The good news is that the antidepressant I switched to (Celexa) is working. Minimal suicidal ideation. Minimal hopelessness. The world seems flattened, as opposed to oppressive. I'm floating instead of being buffeted. And, given where I was, that's a marked improvement.
The bad news is that the side effects are quite noticeable. My sex drive is noticeably diminished (a good thing, for now at least). I yawn frequently. I sleep so much more (this, at 12:20a, is the latest I've been up most of this week).
This is not a perfect solution. I know people say antidepressants won't "change you," but I'm changed. I don't feel my own pain as much, which makes it somewhat more difficult for me to feel others. I'm perpetually tired, which cuts down on my pseudo-manic exuberance. I'm stable. And stability is dangerously new.
As mentioned, though, it's an improvement. I think I'll still want to try to go off of it again. And again. And again. I'm going to wrestle with this all my life. But I am going to wrestle it. I'm not going to live in fear of it like my mother or drown it like my father. I'm going to keep engaging it. And, in so doing, I hope I can maintain the sense and direction of self I still strive for.
I'm busy, now. Blessedly so. I have ideas for what to write about, but the time's not there and the energy (see above) is lacking. But hopefully I'll have something soon. We're getting into the tofu of our counseling theories, now. And I am embarrassingly excited.
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