Old Torture Devices and Anxiety

                Hello friends!

Been  awhile—or has it? 

Ha ha ha ha  I don't know what day it is.

Anyhow, this is just a quick update because, indeed, a bunch has happened.

After going back down to half the antidepressant pill once a day for quite a while, we noticed the awful, awful, awful dreams went away within days, but it seemed as if something was off.

In the morning and through half the day I was fine, but in the afternoons it seemed the Medicine was ‘wearing off’, and it was very inconsistent and unusual.

So back to the Doctors I went, telling them about what was happening. I told them that one day, worse than the rest (at night, of course), I had a total meltdown by feeling overwhelmed. And that’s okay. Except nothing happened in the first place to make me so upset.

I mean, I’m the kind of person that cries when something breaks and who used to refuse to throw away banana peels because it made me too sad. Yeah. I know.

But this was a whirlwind of emotions: first anxiety and fear, then sadness, then anger, mostly because I was feeling all of the previous emotions. I get angry at myself, you see, for crying over little things.

Children cry over the silliest things, don’t they? But at least they are true and honest with their emotions. I am a lot like a child, unable to think rationally about some things.

So the Doctor told me to take half a pill twice a day—one at night, and one halfway through the day.

We've only been trying this for a few days, and though it’s a bit more of a hassle, having to carry the pills with me and remembering to take them on time, I think it’ll be worth it. It’s hard to tell yet, but right now, whereas I would usually be feeling a bit out of sorts, I feel fine. Really really fine.

Also, while listening to my pulse, the Nurse said that she heard an extra beat.

And I was like.


She told me to cough really big and I tried to, but like my lungs are tiny and it turned out pathetic. So out of the room she went and came back with this huge, old machine thing.

Like oh crap.

I know that my heart already is screwed up, but this looks like a torture device.

Turned out it was nothing painful—no needles. Yay! My heartbeat made those little lines on paper, and sure enough the Nurse pointed out an extra beat where there shouldn't be one.


She said it was probably from anxiety.

Heck yeah. Obviously.

Truthfully, my depression is not so much the problem anymore—I have anxiety like no bodies business. In fact, that one night when I had the melt down, I figure I was actually having an anxiety attack. Of course I’ve never had one before, but I could very well imagine that was it.

She said it was nothing to be worried about, so at least that’s good.

I had some blood drawn to check something about my thyroid. YAY NEEDLES BLOOD PAIN I LOVE IT.


So all in all I’m doing okay. I’m a bit nervous about everything that’s happened and my mind hasn’t stood still in forever, but, hey, just keep going, right?

Thank you all for everything!