I don’t normally read my old posts but I found myself doing so this evening just by chance. I’ve experienced so many high highs and some of my lowest lows in the last year since I started this blog. I’ve been vastly articulate and well versed in some of my writing and in others I appear to be in such mental disarray and confusion that most of what I produced was straight psychobabble.
At lot of this fluctuation I feel has to do with my physical health. I’ve struggled to find the same energy, focus, and effectiveness on my vitamins and other natural supplements I’ve used to try and replace Cymbalta. They do help most certainly but they do not get me high enough to forget I was ever sick at all.
I hate to admit but there are more than a handful of days where I feel like digging up my old pills and popping one just to see if I can recreate those days where I felt like I could actually choose to change my own life and the lives of others for the better. I felt healthy, confident, and motivated. Now I’m just sick, doubtful, and tired. I can try to tell myself over and over that things (outside of work) are going well but I think it’s really just a statement I’m trying to make myself believe. I don’t actually feel like my life is going well.
I think my biggest problem is that I don’t have any long-term goals therefore I don’t have anything to measure progress against. I don’t really care whether or not I get married. I don’t really care if I get promoted or demoted because I have lost faith in my current employer. I don’t know how a person creates long-term spiritual goals because faith can’t be measured empirically.
It’s tough to say what the best thing for me is. I would like to think it’s a change of scenery but I tried that twice in the last year and it didn’t really yield progress other than realizing what I don’t want to do with the rest of my life. I suppose I should do my best to measure progress in that way for the time being; to continue to read my old posts and see how far I’ve come based on my agreements/disagreements with my past self.
The hardest part of all of this is feeling captive to my surroundings. To feeling like I cannot take the time to discover what I actually was meant to do let alone take action because I feel pressured to focus on everything but myself. I cannot give myself time to be me and nothing else for more than a weekend.
I’ve been off of cymbalta now for about 5 weeks. I still get headaches every once and again and the cervical lymphodenopathy has yet to subside fully but I am feeling better than I ever have before without the drug. I see the commercials on TV and I can’t help but feel sorry for all the people who have been prescribed Cymbalta because they will feel better for a while but sooner or later the devil comes out of the details and tries to beat the soul out of you.
I wonder if I would be where I am if I had been able to get off of it sooner. Would I have made the same decisions? Would I still be at the job I had straight out of college? Would things be better? Maybe so.
One thing is for certain and that is I am more thankful for what I have because of the burden I was chosen to bear. As much I have been hurt, saddened, and angered by the last 9 years I have been humbled by it all. I don’t think a person can have too much humility.
Humility is the source of greatness. Try to think of any person you admire or a great historical leader. Were they proud or were they humble? Humility leads to selflessness. Sow humility and it will yield greatness.
You can tell which of my posts I actually sit down to write on a computer versus the ones I throw together with grammatical vomit on my smartphone. It’s a pretty noticeable difference. Lately though there’s been a lot of “grammatical vomit” around me in my day-to-day experience as well. Many different thoughts race through my head as I am continuing to experience withdrawal symptoms following my cessation of an anti-depressant medication. More feelings of anxiety and uncertainty tend to creep in on an inconsistent basis which means even though I quit paying admission, I’m still riding the roller coaster.
Most of what I feel is physical. I am still subject to the same headaches I would suffer when I tried to quit cold turkey last spring for the third time. It didn’t bother so much if I could keep myself busy but since I changed jobs from blue to white collar I find myself unable to ignore the pain. Wearing khaki slacks, a collared shirt, and sitting in a cubicle is bad enough. When you add an embedded pain seated inside of your skull that feels like someone is squeezing the left hemisphere of your brain with a bench vice it makes it that much more enjoyable. Really though it’s not as bad as it used to be when it felt like someone was yanking up on my eyeballs from the inside out. (This is usually how I deal with things, latent optimism with a heavy helping of sarcasm.)
The other portion, emotions, is the easy part really. Sure I tend to over analyze social interactions causing depressive thoughts and I because I physically feel like dog shit I tend to alienate my friends and family and spend more time alone but it won’t be like this forever right? Relationships can always be fixed right?….Right?
All of this internal battle is really frustrating. I keep wanting to be instantly gratified and freed from my suffering. I feel like I deserve it after all the hell from within I’ve numbed over the last 9 years. The medication sure did the trick by keeping me from offing myself but I really don’t recall a strong warning from my psychiatrist saying it was going to beat the functionality right out of my liver. My parents do but all I could think about at the time was surviving. Now that I’m on the other side of cessation I ask myself, “was it worth it?” I cannot answer definitively.
I feel like I’ve been cheated. Why can’t I be perpetually happy? If I can’t be perpetually happy why can’t I take medication that doesn’t give me liver cirrhosis? If I can’t get such a medication why can’t I function without jitters and depressive uncertainty? Nobody knows. What I do know is that I’m not getting off the ride anytime soon so I had better get a tighter grip.
Today was a pretty significant milestone for me. I said goodbye to the little blue and white pills in the bottle above for the last time. (It actually was more like I hope I never fuckin’ see you again. Toodles bitch.). It’s weird for me to think I don’t have to rely on them anymore but I feel i will come to embrace the freedom as time carries on.
Now that I’m beginning to reassimilate back into the ebb and flow of daily life for the first time in 9 years I’m beginning to re-encounter feelings which I haven’t felt in as many years. I find myself wanting to remove my place in reality. I want to be able to experience decision without fear of consequence. I want to travel on my own dime to a destination which only I would know of.
I feel like I’ve been a proxy to my own decisions for so long and I want to focus on me for real now.
This temptation is more apparent to me I feel not only because I am no longer a slave to a job which provides health insurance but because society indicates that its okay to do so with the propagation of the hedonistic attitude that if it feels good, do it.
It is difficult to not give into these temptations to say the least when you’re surrounded by it. I find it hard to trust or believe anyone who makes decisions based on impulse rather than consequence. The fact of the matter is that yes it may feel good at the time, but the good feeling never lasts. I’ve found when I myself adopt this reasoning that I am always searching for the next high. It turns into this vicious cycle where you end up being addicted to the impulse.
On the other hand, if I choose to do the unselfish thing in my decision making I find I not only receive greater satisfaction but the good feeling sticks around longer too. My aim for the Lenten season is to approach more situations with this reasoning to add spiritual change to the physical change I am already seeing.