To begin with, I woke up sick to my stomach (nausea and diarrhea) for no good reason. But what's worse, I also woke up filled with anxiety and sadness. I don't talk about this much (especially not here on the blog) but for years I've taken a maintenance dose of an SSRI to treat OCD and depression. Last year, my regular doctor who prescribed my medicine changed practices and was no longer covered by my insurance. I haven't gotten around to finding a new doctor yet (my husband's GP isn't taking new patients) and my prescription for Zoloft ran out two or three weeks ago. I decided to try going without it to see how it would be, and now I'm beginning to think that was a mistake. I've not had any OCD symptoms yet (thank god) but my emotions are all over the place.
When I first felt a knot of anxiety building deep inside last weekend, I thought it was just due to my dread of going back to a job I hate after vacation ended. And I definitely think that was part of it. Unfortunately, there's a strong possibility I have some withdrawal from the Zoloft going on, too. I keep crying over the smallest things, and I'm not sleeping well, and then there's the stomach trouble this morning....I suppose I should be thankful that at least I'm not checking that the stove is off 50 times before leaving the house, or feeling compelled to drive around the block over and over again to make sure I haven't killed someone with my car. OCD is a terrible disease. I really would like to try life without medication for awhile because I've been mostly symptom free for over a decade now. But I guess it depends on how bad the side effects of quitting get to be.
Gregg was alarmed today when I told him I wasn't taking the Zoloft anymore. He remembers the 6 months or so in my mid twenties when I was on the verge of a complete breakdown. And it wasn't pretty. I'm not sure I would have survived those days without his love and support. He made me promise to get my gynecologist to write me a new prescription when I go for my yearly pap smear next week. That way, if I decide that quitting isn't working out, I'll be prepared. In the meantime, I'm just over here trying to ride out the storm.
Then I checked Facebook last night before bed and found out that a woman who was a friend of mine in high school had just lost her 17 year old son to cancer. So then I cried again, this time for her and her family. How utterly devastated they must be. That makes three friends of mine who have lost children this year. Talk about putting a little mild depression and anxiety into perspective.
Life seems awfully hard sometimes, doesn't it?