A few weeks ago I was feeling edgy and weird. Like... More than my usual weird. Like instead of my usual thoughts, for example, 'They should remake 'The Cat from Outer Space' with Jeremy Irons as the cat and Daniel Day Lewis reprising the Ken Berry role' it was more like 'If I have to use the chip reader at Walgreens I am going to burn everything in my site to the ground including the ice cream case.'
Yeah. Like that.
Sadly I couldn't pinpoint the reason. Not immediately, any way.
Work was not any more stressful than usual. Home life good. Kid good. Dog good. Music good. All good. So why was I a fiery monster one second then a blubbering mess the next?
Honestly here what happened one night: my wife was watching a show and "Why can't I touch it?" by The Buzzcocks comes on and I started to tear up. A lot. And I asked her in a soppy, blubbering voice if she can make sure this is played at my funeral if I were to 'go first.' She looks at me and says "Sure, but I don't think that's happening right now." Which was true. But I took this to mean something about her disregarding my intense emotional state and my sensitivity and why was she doing this and couldn't she see and hear I was crying and why am I putting up with this crapola and on and on and on... I went from tears to angry in less than a minute then grumbled around the house for a while hoping se might notice how wrong she was by my ogre-ish pouting.
Eventually she asked me what was wrong and I attempted to educate her on how wrong she was for not seeing my emotional state. Needless to say it backfired and again she asked what was wrong with perhaps a bit more pointed concern. And for the life of me I couldn't come up with a valid reason other than that she was so very wrong in that moment.
A few days later, during a subsequent doctors visit where I received some unwelcome news - just the doctor telling me my blood pressure and weight were the same as Krakatoa just before it blew (okay not her exact words but...) - I realized I'd been feeling scattered, paranoid and freaked out all the time.
Then it occurred to me that I hadn't taken my meds in a week.
See I'm on Lexapro which isn't too strong but then again my depression isn't either. I just need something to keep me up outta the depths and it does the job. But when I go off it I start to get a little edgy, a little emotional and a little... "blustery" as my mom calls it. And damned if I didn't seem to, ahem, "accidentally" go cold turkey off them for a week. Oops.
Of course I let the damn refill go with no intention of stopping my treatment but, hey, life is life and sometimes it seems too hard to make that call or email the doctor and get a refill. Which is dumb. Even if you're depressed like me and something so trivial can seem insurmountable. But then so much of a depressive's life is, right? Like keeping up on dumb stuff like prescription refills, mental health and not being a giant baby taking yourself and everyone else on an emotional roller coaster ride for a week.
Upon getting that refill I took my pill, sat quietly and tried not to feel like too much of an asshole. Which is hard when you do the dumb thing, are depressive AND prone to thinking you aren't worth squat sometimes. But within a day or two the edgy, weird feeling was gone, I was no longer irritable for no reason nor convinced there was a small conspiracy to keep me from having a good day.
I was still, however, a little embarrassed and a little ashamed that I'd let it slide. I apologized to my wife and explained to her what had happened. And because she is kind, loving, gracious and evolved she didn't call me a dumbass, a dingdong nor a jerk for all my exclamations nor my not keeping up on my prescriptions.
So this is really just a long roundabout way to say take the time, folks, and make sure you've got your prescriptions up to date and filled especially if your particular strain of mental health is more potent than mine. So stay on top of it, okay?
Adios. Be well.