Day I Have No Idea How Long I've Been Suffering But It's Too Damn Long

Stupid Kindle wouldn't let me make an actual post earlier, so here we go. 

Seems like today's been a good day.  Have I reached the summit already?  I think I'm a week in.  It feels like longer.  Sometimes I forget to breathe.  The brain-zaps are fewer, but they've been upgraded.  It's like my head is a Star Wars movie.  Gah.  Now I get the electroshock feeling, but when it happens, it's also like I'm standing inside a massive church bell and someone just whacked the outside with a hammer.  Sound effect would be GONNNN[bzzt]GGGGGGGGGG.  It's bizarre, annoying, and something I totally just lost my train of thought again.

But there were actual moments today, real, long moments, that lasted longer than a breath or two, where I felt like a human being again.  I was even able to read my baby bear a bedtime story (three times! I might have considered more, but we were getting too close to bedtime and he has school in the morning).  I read How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? to him.  Adorable story.  He loved the dinosaurs and all the silly things they were doing.  I'm going to have to buy him all of those books.  I won't be able to resist. 

The highlight of the day was the fact that I felt well enough to play WoW.  This whole week I was so dizzy and sick I couldn't go near the game because I felt immediately like puking practically before I finished loading it.  So the fact that I ran DM twice to pick up lowbie gear to put in the guild vault is really a testament to how much of an improvement I've made in just the last twenty-four hours.

Cold Turkey

What kind of moron quits anything cold turkey?

Oh, that's right. The kind of moron I am.  I don't remember my reasoning at this point.  I'm sure there was a good one.  It's long gone in the fog by now.  I was taking effexor for my anxiety and depression, and now I'm not.  Nausea.  Shakes.  My nerves feel like they've all been rubbed raw with sandpaper.  OH MY GOD MAKE IT STOP NOW PLEASE okay next breath not so bad.  If people even fight through a little bit of this with -oh boy, here come the crazy sweats- quitting smoking I can totally understand why they would stick with the cancer sticks.  Given my druthers I'd go back to those shitty little pills.  They're fucking awful for you, but wow, they're better than this.  I'm really loving the electric-shock thing.  That's really the perfect way to describe it. 

It's like someone is shoving your finger in an electrical socket. Every ten five or thirty seconds.  Bzzt.  Nauseous, trying not to puke and there it goes again, bzzt.  THIS IS FUCKING AWFUL okay sorry, it's so hard to keep myself focused. 

But even that isn't too awful for me.  My worst enemy is the nausea.  I hate nausea. I don't like feeling pukey (which is why my pregnancies [bzzt] were nightmares),  I hate vomiting, I will avoid them at all costs.  Hard to avoid when being alive seems to be the cause.  Okay, I know it is my stupid body's stupid dependency on this stupid [bzzt] drug (and holy shit why are we even still letting it be used? I have a one year old and a three year old.  I do my best to keep us on a schedule, but life gets in the way.  Getting nauseous and feeling this brain-[bzzt]shock because I didn't have time to take my medicine and had to wait a few hours is just freaking crazy.  Three hours shouldn't be a big deal!)  but I tend to exaggerate when I'm upset and OH MY GOD I'M SO UPSET RIGHT NOW.  You try feeling like this and not being upset.

Upside?  I have better [bzzt] control of my emotions OFF EFFEXOR than I ever did on it.  Feeling ragey because of withdrawal?  Feeling like screaming obscenities because someone blinked at you wrong?  Completely under control.  I always felt like I was toeing the line with my emotional control.  Like I was one frayed thread away from bursting into tears [bzzt] or going off on a rage-fueled murder spree or whatever.  Without it, and deep in withdrawal, my first impulse may be to be angry and scream obscenities at Husband because he has ugly feet (and boy, does he), but compared to the way I felt when I was on the [bzzt] medication, it's almost ridiculously easy to just pull those words back from the ledge and stuff them somewhere in the electrified recesses of my deranged mind. 

I was going to lay out what exactly is wrong with me that I might need medicine, and explain my reasoning (ha, I tried to type seasoning, that's apparently only funny because I'm [bzzt] yeah okay never mind) for quitting, but coherent thought is too far out of reach today.