Monday, March 12, 2007

Sad about happy pills

I hate antidepressants. One might even say that I find them depressing.

I can't stand that if I miss a dose or try to cut back on my happy pills, my body and world feel like they are going to fall apart.

This was my chief beef with the movie "Garden State." Zach Braff's character could not have done all he was supposed to do after giving up a long-term antidepressant. I tried to cut my dose to two pills from three and wound up in bed for the better part of four days.

Another thing about "Garden State": In my 15-plus years going to neurologists' offices, I have never seen someone as cute and fun as Natalie Portman. Generally, the neuro audience is older people and kids with parents. Of course, I am not talking about the staff. I have a type of Florence Nightengale syndrome: I totally have crushes on pretty much every woman doctor or nurse I have ever met. And let's not even talk about the PTs, OTs and other therapists. Sigh. (For the record, I don't have a crush on my primary care physician; she's just really cool.)

I hate antidepressants' side effects. The reason I tried to cut my dosage was because I was tired of waking up in a puddle of sweat. I know there are more side effects: bladder issues, headaches, intestinal issues, sexual ones (sexy ones would be OK but no ...). And I have tried other types of antidepressants to get rid of the side effects. Either they do not work or they make me sweat.

I don't like being addicted to things. One Christmas eve I forgot to take my pills. On Christmas, I made it through the morning, then felt bad all afternoon, then realized in the evening why my ears were ringing, I felt like throwing up and crying. My mom assures me that it is not a sign of addiction but of how much my brain needs the chemicals in the pills to work right. I am sure there is an important difference there, but the upshot is I can't not take my pills.

Most of all, though, I hate that there are days like today when I know I need to take my happy pills, even if taking them makes me unhappy


Anonymous said...

Here's how Jim and I start the day: Irish tea, the Post and the RT-D, a Welbutrin for him, a Prozac for me. We even have a little pink weekly pill minder, like the old folks do.
Stupid brain chemistry...

Matt said...

I don't need a pill reminder because I am not old.

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