In Vino Veritas: Lord Help Me

So, I’m doing my hump day in brilliant fashion. I’m drunk. Like, flat-out, I’m a 1/2 glass from the bottom of my bottle of Sicilian red wine. Mm, mm, good. Yeah.
What can I say? I was working on a tv show about red wine this afternoon, and I thought, “That sounds good. Sure.” So, that and a 440-calorie deluxe mini-pizza and I’m just as happy as can be. Albeit somewhat wobbly.
Because I’m drunk, heh heh, and happy about it, and in vino veritas, and all that, I’m going to take a moment to not really apologize, but maybe clear the air or something here.
I have been short-tempered of late, probably pretty much clear throughout my life. It has been odd and strange to be on my end of it, because I’m not sure where it comes from. One word springs to mind: hormones.
Two weeks ago, I visited my doctor and said, “You know, I think it’s time I got off the meds.”
If you’re new to this blog, fuck, well, the story’s too long to indoctrinate ya now, but suffice to say my longtime readers know I’ve been on quite the ride the last couple of years, but given that I heavily edit this blog and temper it from my real life, all y’all don’t know jack. Really.
So, long story short, I lost my nut two years ago when birth control pills fucked me up more than I ever could have dreamed. I still think birth control pills are an important tool, and that my experience is probably the exception to the rule, but that, if you do decide to use the pill (and I’d approve that choice, with condoms), you got to monitor your moods and tell those closest to you to help keep you objective about how you’re reacting to life, because I tripped the wire, man. I really tripped the wire.
I am telling you this: I have lost my mother, who was THE most important person to me, after caring for her before her death; I have survived nearly a decade of chronic pain; I have survived nearly dying on a severely injuring motorbike accident… and I have never, ever endured the darkness I endured two summers ago. I couldn’t have written about the darkness I was in. You didn’t want to read that, I certainly didn’t want to actualize it on the page. I couldn’t talk about it. I kept trying to talk myself out of it; intellectually I knew my life wasn’t that bad, so what was it?
The further I get from it, the more I realize it had to be the pills.
So, back to the present. I’ve lost almost 50 pounds, the good old-fashioned way. I’ve not used trainers or clubs or organizations, and I haven’t even had a gym membership. But I’ve gotten it done. I’ve redecorated my place, tackled my debt…
But then in the last couple of months, though I’ve intellectually felt like I’m going someplace awesome, my emotions were just always a little too much on edge for all I KNOW I have accomplished.
So, I chatted with the doc. Because, you know, us women and hormones, man, it’s a delicate dance. I started wondering if maybe it was time to end the anti-depressants, since they’d clearly done their job.
Now, the doc only found out about 3 weeks ago I’d lost 35 pounds, so this 40-pushing-50 thing is news all the better. So, I show up for the appointment, tell him maybe it’s time I move on. He looks at me and goes, “Steff, depressed people don’t lose 40 pounds, and they’re not really into redecorating much. I think maybe, yeah, it’s time.”
But truth be told, I hadn’t really thought I’d been that off-kilter until the last couple days. Coincidentally, I just got off the meds Sunday. A couple days and that stuff starts to clear up, like a long fog in the winter. (Though, ironically, I’m all a-tipsy now. 🙂
In the not too distant past, I’ve written a rant about comments, chewed a few people out, you know. Kinda not-too-fuzzy stuff. It’s out of character for me to throw it out there — politically, I’m as shrewd as the fuckin’ day is long, baby, so I don’t tend to put my foot in my mouth all that often.
But it seems of late I have. I think I was expressing my true feelings, but I normally would’ve put a cork in it and just dismissed it as people spouting off when maybe they should’ve done a little self-editing. Then, ironically, I too failed to self-edit. Funny how that works.
Anyhow. This is me saying I’ll behave more. I’m not saying I’m sorry, ‘cos maybe we all should blow a fuse now and then and get that shit off our chests… heh, after four years of blogging, it was about time I ranted about comments. Hah. It’s like parental advice — sooner or later you just gotta speak your piece.
But I could have done it better. I could have been nicer. Hell, I should have. One thing I’ve never claimed to be is perfect. And I’ve always loathed hormones. Damn estrogenies. So, you know, older, wiser, and on it rolls. Will. Behave. Better.
All right, so I was a bit of an ass. Yes. True. But I wasn’t entirely incorrect. 🙂

(My theory is, with enough time passing for the birth control pills to finally be irrelevant, my weight loss success, my improved diet, a more relaxing job situation, and improved finances, that my body chemistry has become correct all by itself, but by continuing to be medicated, it’s actually been causing a new imbalance. Strange, huh? But it makes sense to me. Ay yi yi.)

11 thoughts on “In Vino Veritas: Lord Help Me

  1. Sigga

    I had the exact same experience with the Pill, my doctor insisted that I tried another brand when the first sent me off the rails (even though I’d told him how it was affecting me) and then another when the second did the same. After the third, surprise surprise, did exactly the same I stopped taking it and I haven’t spoken to that doctor since.

  2. N

    The pill sucks ass. I’m on it right now, I don’t want to be, but I have my reasons, which are numerous, long-winded and boring.

    I did want to say though that I don’t think you should feel too sorry for the post about the comments. I was actually going to comment then, but then I got distracted and then I forgot. So…

    It’s your blog and you can say whatever you want to say. Reading it is voluntary, after all. My philosophy with comments is that if you wouldn’t make the comment to the persons face you shouldn’t make it online. Simple.

    If you were just talking to someone, you wouldn’t correct every grammatical error they made, or state the completely obvious, because the other person would just think you were an irritating tool. If you do this, it’s possible you ARE an irritating tool.

    Some people out there are just itching for a chance to show the world they know more than someone else. Some just want to say something, anything just to be heard. Sometimes, those people just need to be told. I get that.

    So you keep saying whatever takes your fancy girl.

  3. Scribe Called Steff

    Sigga — I may try the pill again sometime down the road, but we’ll see. I’ll be very cautious if I do. It certainly fills me with apprehensions.

    N — Awesome. Yeah, I’ll probably still freak out at the occasional comment because it’s just bullshit what people are comfortable with saying sometimes. Like, assume I have a functioning brain, at the very least. Don’t treat me like I’m in grade 3, right?

    But, yeah. I just don’t want to feel like I’ve been a cunt about anything.

    I’d have felt better about the “Just another stupid comment” posting if a few more bloggers had said “Yeah, you know, ditto” and agreed, but then I started thinking, “What, is this just me?”

    Heh. But thanks!!

  4. c.j. Strata

    And those of us who have made stupid comments shall try to do more of that self-editing thing so that said stupid comments come up less frequently. Recently had something of a revelation that I overreact a fair bit…so that's something for me to work on. ^^;

    I was on meds for the better part of a semester of college. I stopped taking them partly because I thought I was better, and partly because I didn't take them all that regularly and they gave me insomnia like something else as a result. >> I think I've done a pretty good job of getting myself un-depressed, though. Given the circumstances, at any rate. For some folk, it's even a question of "Was I really clinically depressed? Or was I just lonely, frustrated, in a rut, having financial difficulties?

    One of the bad things about depression is that it's completely natural to get depressed…sometimes. If there’s a whole lot of bad shit going down in your life, why shouldn’t you be depressed? Somebody who’s lonely, stressed out, has financial issues or overbearing parents or difficult roommates or whatever, has a pretty good reason to be depressed, and will not get ‘fixed’ by taking pills. That said, there are of course situations where it’s more to it than just the current life situation, like in yours, with the birth control. But it can be hard to tell (for doctors and patients alike) when a person needs medication versus just an overhaul of their lifestyle. Suffice you get people who think therapists are nothing but pill-pushers.

    But I ramble. Congratulations on getting yourself out of that place, Steff. ^^ As for starting to get imbalanced by the meds…well, that’s the teeter-totter of life, neh? 😉 S’good you’re off of’em, at least.

  5. George

    I am concerned that you have stopped taking your meds. Major Depression — where meds are needed, not just helpful — isn’t cured by anti-depressants: they just help with the symptoms. And because depression is a cyclic disorder, you can feel well (in an ‘up’ phase) while still suffering from the disease as much as you ever have.

    Depressed people do lose 40 pounds. I lost 50 in 2003, and have managed to keep them off. And I feel 100% fine pretty much all the time. But I still keep taking my meds. Whenever I have tried to cut back, my depression has always raised its ugly head again.

    Incidentally, I found that Prozac made me edgy, so I switched to Lexapro, and have had a much better response with that. People respond differently, and different meds suit different people.

  6. Scribe Called Steff

    I both do, and don’t, appreciate your concern, George.

    First, you’re assuming I’m bipolar or clinically depressed or something, and I’ve never suggested that, nor has any professional I’ve ever spoken to.

    I spoke to my DOCTOR about this, as I’ve alluded here, who knows my situation far, far more intricately than readers of my blog do.

    Just because I’ve quipped about one line he said doesn’t mean my practitioner’s some out-of-the-loop oblivious guy here.

    I appreciate YOUR situation, but since you’re gleaning a small comment here and reading into it more than you probably should, I’m going to clear this up quickly and move on:

    I understand how anti-depressants are prescribed; the first time, rule of thumb is a year of taking them. The second time, rule of thumb is three years. If a third serious case of depression is diagnosed, anti-depressants are then prescribed for the balance of the person’s life.

    If, HOWEVER, the depression is largely SITUATIONAL, the prescription periods go right out the window.

    My doctor considers both of my instances more situational.

    Besides, I’ve already said, I spoke to my MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. I’m not doing this all spontaneously and like a whim.

    And I am not going to latch myself onto an anti-depressant because I’m scared to find out if I can, or can not, handle real life all on my lonesome.

    Thanks for your concern — and I’m not going to spill the beans about the 187 reasons I think my depression was caused by my situation (and a chemical imbalance created by another drug) — but you’ve missed the point that I now feel the meds have been NEGATIVELY affecting me because I think my chemistry HAS balanced because of the million things I’m doing to help it through health, fitness, and diet — again, for reasons I don’t feel I need to spill for all my readers.

    I realize, too, that I just can’t blithely assume life will be peachy for forever.

    I fucking know that, obviously, so no worries there.

    This is one of those times I feel the commenter is assuming they know more than they should, and that I’m somehow ignorant, you know?

    Frustrates me.

    (Saw your comment, CJ, I’ll comment later… wanted to tackle this here and now, tho. :P)

  7. Scribe Called Steff

    CJ — Yeah, well, I’ve had the “situational” depression a lot over life; Life kinda singled me out for more than my share for two full decades. Most of the time I was getting through it. Sometimes, though, not so much.

    Two years ago, I think my chemical imbalance was probably there to start with, to a degree, due to bad diet and not enough exercise, but then I had a bunch of even worse bad shit all happen at the same time — in job, love, money, everything all at once — at the same time as the birth control making me screwy when we not-so-wisely tried suppressing my period with it for three months.

    All that just piled up one thing after another. Meds were necessary — hugely so. It was the only way to give some equilibrium in a very dark time.

    My doc wanted me to try to get off them last year, but life was still hard and I knew I wasn’t ready — and I recognized that I was still “off” and actually, with his guidance, we INCREASED the dosage for 6 months — during which the weight loss began and much of life straightened itself out. (And a couple of the pill’s side effects, like grogginess and fatigue lightened up a little, oddly.)

    I cut back to my original dose on my own back in February, and spoke to my doc after the fact but he applauded the choice and said that was the ideal, to get me off them sooner than later — so as to find out, one way or the other, if I’m to be fine off them.

    FYI, you’re never, ever supposed to just go on anti-depressants for 6 months or less, [like I said, rule of thumb is a year] so I think you made a mistake going off them after a semester, but c’est la vie.

    ***

    As for you, George, I’ll say that I’ll have NO PROBLEM taking meds again if I feel I should need them. Like, NONE. Part of me expects that, at some point in my life, I may well have to go there again, and that’ll be all right.

    I don’t have a stigma or issue with the act of taking them, but if I am in fact able to live without them — or any chemical drug, then I absolutely SHOULD do so. I don’t believe in taking anything longer than necessary, but I’m fully aware that lifelong taking of meds can be a necessity…

    But, at this point, I refuse to think they are for me, because I’m the one living in my head, you know? Thanks anyhow. Have no concern, George. Really.

  8. C.J. Strata

    Really? Hmm, didn’t know that thing about taking them 6 months minimum. But I was taking a non-standard antidepressant—Wellbutrin, if you know it. It didn’t have the chemicals which people get addicted to, and was supposed to be better for people with bipolar disorders (which I (don’t think I) have, but my therapist didn’t want to risk it at first). So maybe there wasn’t as much risk, I dunno. Either way, I’m off now, and I haven’t like…had a heart attack or anything, so glee!

    You’re probably the first person I’ve heard tell a positive tale about depression meds, and I think it’s largely due to the fact you were willing to work at things, rather than expecting the pills do all the work like most of the folks I hear from. Well, that and you’re probably older than most of the folk I know who take meds, who are, at best, stabilizing out of puberty, and at worst, right in the middle of it. Nothing quite like trying to regulate a person’s moods when their hormones are naturally going crazy to make a person dislike meds. 9_9

    Either way, more power to you for choosing to get off, and being willing to get on them later if you need to. ^^

  9. Victoria

    When I first spoke with my doctor about birth control, he fitted me for a diaphragm and never suggested anything else. I thought it a bit strange; even still, as I’m the only person I know who uses a diaphragm instead of a pill. But I’m glad, because the thought of screwing with my hormones really bothers me. It’s unfortunate that you were someone for whom the reality of screwing with hormones didn’t work out, but good on you for pulling through it and here’s hoping that your newfound equilibrium is all you dreamt it would be.

  10. George

    I 100% agree that situational depression (lowercase) is totally different from Major Depression (uppercase), and that only the latter requires meds indefinitely.

    However, I am a touch cynical about medical professionals after my doctor repeatedly tried to pressure me to stop my meds, even after my (much more knowledgeable) psychiatrist told me I should stay on them for life.

    And last night I was counselling a friend who has been persuaded to go off all her medications. The side effects were bad, but what she’s experiencing now is much, much worse.

  11. Scribe Called Steff

    And I know people who’ve attempted suicide on the drugs, George. It goes both ways.

    I was not PERSUADED or PRESSURED. I have wanted to be off the pills for a long time, and my doctor has known it. All he’s ever done was asked if I was ready.

    Again, I’m sorry you’ve had a rough go of it, but I assure you that no one is a better judge of their condition, or needs, than I am. *I* have been the one to request the meds; I’m also the one who knows when I don’t need them — that, in fact, they have been affecting me negatively since getting my health and diet (major contributors to mood disorders) under control.

    Again, thanks for your concern, but unnecessary. Not for me. I know too much about this shit, and myself, and MY SITUATION.

    So, thanks, but we’re done here.

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