I am not a depressed person. Or at least I don't think I am. But in the months after my father died, my world sort of got twisted. My nerves were a frazzled mass of rawness. My doctor suggested Lexapro, and darned if it didn't help. Lots.
So nearly 2 years later, life was calmer. Things were good. One day I asked myself, "Self, why do you still take these things anyway?" I decided to stop. I knew not to stop cold turkey ... I did my research and talked to my doctor, and then followed a slow and deliberate withdrawal schedule. I'd read about these things called Brain Zaps that can occur from anti-depressant withdrawal. You know what? I had them. It was very strange -- it felt something like a slight electrical current in my head. Sometimes, I'd have the sensation that things were moving that weren't really moving. It took nearly a month before I quit having those sensations, but they finally went away. Yay, no more anti-depressants, I thought.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, said Life.
Damned if the whole world didn't go bonkers all at the same time. First, I started noticing that I was just -- moody, I guess. I cried more, over dumb things, and I was snippier than I should be. I felt overwhelmed by work, bills, and other normal responsibilities. Then, I had a little medical adventure that involved a biopsy and in-patient surgery. As I write this, I still don't know the biopsy results. I missed a week of work and spent that week in pain a few days, and just downright uncomfortable for the rest of the week.
Just before the surgery, a family member got really pissed at me about something I won't hash out here, and she didn't pull any punches in letting me know just how pissed she was. Which is certainly her right, but the timing sucked. The very day of my surgery, I had an rather, well, MEAN email from her awaiting me in my mail box. (Thank goodness I had a few nice ones from people hoping my surgery had gone well!) So during a time when I could have really used a little TLC and support -- um, yeah, that wasn't happening. While I think we'll be OK, I have to say, that really HURT. DAMN, way to kick someone when they're down and bleeding! And off of the anti-depressants!!
Then, I decided today to take a look at my mom's bank balance. I manage her finances and have done so since my dad died. It's been very frustrating, because she seems to have no concept of how much she spends and how much she has. Let's just leave it at this: There are some family members who don't hesitate to ask for her help, and she seems to be unable to say no. I've repeatedly told her that she cannot afford to be as generous as she is being and she repeatedly ignores me. So today was the day I knew was coming. The balances in her account are in the double digits. The balance in her "emergency fund", which had a hefty balance when my father died 2 years ago, has about $30.00 left. So, while she has annuity income that will insure that her bills are paid, she has completely depleted her emergency reserves.
To say I lost it would be an understatement. I cried .... WAILED .... for about an hour. That was the first melt down. I proceeded to have about 4 more similar, but thankfully shorter, meltdowns over the course of the day. I am not a crying, sobbing, wailing sort of person.
During one of the calmer moments, my husband looked at me and very nervously asked, "are you sure you need to be off of those anti-depressants?" For some reason, that was the funniest thing I'd heard all day.
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