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The Effexor has pretty much knackered me. Panic attacks, crying jags, can't eat, can't sleep, can't concentrate, can't work. The Girl Genius #12 schedule is completely shot to hell, and I have to find some way to explain it to Kaja. How can I? It's completely my fault: I chose to go into the medication change, though I honestly thought that by the first or second week of June things would have evened out. All but one of my past medication changeovers have gone smoothly.
This one has been like stepping into a minefield. Every move I make produces another explosion that takes a bigger chunk out of me. I can't stop shaking, and nothing seems to help except a LOT of tranquillizer.
I saw my doctor today (who had a breakdown of his own a couple of months ago and is still "out of it"), told him what I'm going through, and said that I suspect it's a side effect of the Effexor dosage increase. He agreed to let me step back down to 1 tablet a day, but also said that in his opinion it might not be the medication -- I might have given birth to a bouncing baby anxiety disorder aaaallll on my own.
*pounds head against table, cries for a while*
Shit. Fuck. Piss. And lots of other bad words.
If it IS the Effexor that's making me climb the walls, the side effects should subside in a couple of days. If not, I'm looking at more diagnostics, a depression medication change, possibly an added anti-anxiety medication (fuck fuck FUCK), and a bunch of other fun stuff. They're trying to get me a psychiatrist, but who knows how far beyond the moon *that* is.
My doctor hinted that I should probably be in the Misericordia Urgent Care ward, since to him it looked like a genuine crisis situation, and made sure that I knew to contact them if things get any worse. I almost went in tonight (just like I did last Sunday), all my instincts said I SHOULD have gone in, but I managed to hang on and two tranquillizer tablets dulled the pain enough that I can avoid that -- for now. I discussed with George what would need to be done if I went in and ended up being admitted, who he should contact, etc. We also discussed the role of the Mobile Crisis Unit, which would be the first place I'd call if things got to that point -- they come to your house and do an on-site assessment, then refer you to hospital if necessary.
Dr. T. also gave me a quick little note to take into Human Resources at Ipsos-Reid. Quote: "Mrs. Laurie Smith is under medical treatment for acute anxiety." That's all he felt honest saying, and I think that's fair, since right now neither or us knows what's causing this sustained fit of franticness on my part. Hopefully it's enough for I-R, since I honestly don't know how many shifts I'll be able to work like this.
Oh, and I ate a tin of Puritan Irish Stew. My first real food in about 3 days, since my stomach has been rejecting the very notion of eating anything. Afterwards I crashed on the couch and slept most of the afternoon... I guess my body needed the food and the downtime, but it ate a few more hours out of my Girl Genius production time.
George says not to worry about it right now. I'm exhausted to the point that all I can do is all I can do, and if we lose the book we lose the book. But dammit, it wasn't SUPPOSED to happen like this. I've got to write that letter to Kaja, and I have no idea what I'm going to say.
This one has been like stepping into a minefield. Every move I make produces another explosion that takes a bigger chunk out of me. I can't stop shaking, and nothing seems to help except a LOT of tranquillizer.
I saw my doctor today (who had a breakdown of his own a couple of months ago and is still "out of it"), told him what I'm going through, and said that I suspect it's a side effect of the Effexor dosage increase. He agreed to let me step back down to 1 tablet a day, but also said that in his opinion it might not be the medication -- I might have given birth to a bouncing baby anxiety disorder aaaallll on my own.
*pounds head against table, cries for a while*
Shit. Fuck. Piss. And lots of other bad words.
If it IS the Effexor that's making me climb the walls, the side effects should subside in a couple of days. If not, I'm looking at more diagnostics, a depression medication change, possibly an added anti-anxiety medication (fuck fuck FUCK), and a bunch of other fun stuff. They're trying to get me a psychiatrist, but who knows how far beyond the moon *that* is.
My doctor hinted that I should probably be in the Misericordia Urgent Care ward, since to him it looked like a genuine crisis situation, and made sure that I knew to contact them if things get any worse. I almost went in tonight (just like I did last Sunday), all my instincts said I SHOULD have gone in, but I managed to hang on and two tranquillizer tablets dulled the pain enough that I can avoid that -- for now. I discussed with George what would need to be done if I went in and ended up being admitted, who he should contact, etc. We also discussed the role of the Mobile Crisis Unit, which would be the first place I'd call if things got to that point -- they come to your house and do an on-site assessment, then refer you to hospital if necessary.
Dr. T. also gave me a quick little note to take into Human Resources at Ipsos-Reid. Quote: "Mrs. Laurie Smith is under medical treatment for acute anxiety." That's all he felt honest saying, and I think that's fair, since right now neither or us knows what's causing this sustained fit of franticness on my part. Hopefully it's enough for I-R, since I honestly don't know how many shifts I'll be able to work like this.
Oh, and I ate a tin of Puritan Irish Stew. My first real food in about 3 days, since my stomach has been rejecting the very notion of eating anything. Afterwards I crashed on the couch and slept most of the afternoon... I guess my body needed the food and the downtime, but it ate a few more hours out of my Girl Genius production time.
George says not to worry about it right now. I'm exhausted to the point that all I can do is all I can do, and if we lose the book we lose the book. But dammit, it wasn't SUPPOSED to happen like this. I've got to write that letter to Kaja, and I have no idea what I'm going to say.
