Monday, September 26, 2005

Insult to Injury

So, I fall victim to marketing. On each packet of crisps there is a code and every five minutes there is a random draw. If your code is picked you win an iPod. To suggest an element of skill, the spiel on the packet suggests picking a five minute slot most likely to have fewer entrants and therefore increase your chances.

So, as I have to be up at 0500 anyway, I text in my code before I shower. No, I didn't win. But every entry is acknowledged with what I assume is supposed to be some piece of music trivia. This is the text message I received:

Sorry you didn't win the Walkers iPod draw this time. Did you know Mick Jagger used to work as a porter in a mental hospital

That is not a good morning greeting suitable for a paranoid Monday dawn. And the lack of a question mark just annoys me even more.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Absence

I miss my children.

I see them every weekend and every Wednesday, I talk to them every day. But I miss the little things, when they learn something new, going shopping with them, hearing their voices in another room, hearing them giggle with their friends.

The time I spend with them now is quality time, I am dedicated to them, things like DIY or other chores just don't exist while they are with us. But in some ways that just makes it all the more unreal.

It's almost 18 months since I left the family home, so this isn't exactly a new feeling. It waxes and wanes, stronger than usual at the moment. Changing job, moving desk again, means shifting photographs and pictures. I found a passport size photo of my daughter B (then 3) holding her baby brother G (then a few months). Three years have passed since the photo was taken and they have certainly changed.

Is it because I miss B the three-year-old – Daddy's little girl? Is it because I miss having the constant relationship with toddler G that I had with B?

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Weaning Take 2, Part IV

Drugs of choice:
30mg Fluoxetine (40mg today, 20 tomorrow)
Emmet


It appears the side-effects have truly subsided. I still have the vivid dreams, but nothing to worry about. My only concern now is a strange, new habit of singing Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody to myself when alone. My singing voice is nowhere near good enough for me to want to risk singing while in company, so I hope I will soon overcome this.

Sometimes big companies are slow, bureaucratic beasts. Not on this occasion. It is less than two weeks since I decided to change job, and as of yesterday it has become official. My workload is increasing but, at the moment, I continue to relish this new pressure. My colleagues, past and present, have all welcomed the news, with many happy sentiments being passed on to me.

If I stick to the schedule suggested by my GP, Friday will see me reduce to 20mg of Fluoxetine per day. I await the impact of another session of withdrawal on this new enthusiasm.

The Moon On A Stick

So NASA are going back to the moon.

Yes, there are plenty of arguments about how the huge investment will help science, education and even the economy devastated by Katrina. But I really think we should sort out a few of the problems on this planet before we start to f**k up any others.

Poverty, disease, an impending climate and fuel crisis. One would have hoped that Katrina had brought home the issues of climate change and an understanding of Third World hardship to the US. No such luck.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Withdrawal Part 3

Appear to have worked through the withdrawal this weekend. Most of the side-effects have passed, although with some new visitors in the last few evenings:

  • Tremor

  • Other Strange Tingling or Painful Sensations

  • Dreams, including Vivid Dreams


Hopefully that will be it for now. Until the next step down, to 20mg per day.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Withdrawal Part 2

I have been working my way through the list of withdrawal symptoms listed in the Healy Report mentioned yesterday.

During Tuesday and Wednesday I worked through:
  • Agitation

  • Depression

  • Lability of Mood

  • Irritability

  • Confusion

  • Insomnia or Drowsiness

  • Mood Swings

  • Feelings of Unreality

Today I woke up to:
  • Dizziness

  • Headache

  • Fatigue/Malaise

  • Flu-like Feelings

  • Nausea, Diarrhoea, Flatulence (Not the second, fortunately)

Which may sound bad, but they're a lot better than the emotions of the previous days. I did struggle to get up, repeatedly pressing the snooze button on the alarm clock for an hour. I finally dragged myself into work and I'm glad I did, as I'm feeling a little better for it.

Fortunately, I haven't had any of the following, yet:
  • Muscle Spasms

  • Tremor

  • Electric Shock-like Sensations

  • Other Strange Tingling or Painful Sensations

  • Dreams, including Vivid Dreams

  • Sweating

  • Feelings of being Hot or Cold

I printed off the report yesterday so that H could read it, which turned out to be a pretty good idea, as at least she has a bit more understanding of what I'm going through now.

It is a little concerning that I am going through all this dropping from 40mg to 30mg, and could well have to go through it, or worse, for another 3 steps.

One day at a time though, eh?

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Withdrawal

If you are withdrawing from fluoxetine, Prozac or other SSRI antidepressants, you should read this report.

It has not made me feel better but has given me some small hope that I may feel better soon.

In the meantime, I continue to feel really, really bad.

Descent

Day 6, it being the morning after day 5. During Monday evening I started to detect changes in my behaviour and mood. These were more evident last night.

I have become irritable, impatient, over-sensitive, picky, snappy, grumpy. Ill logic turns the playful banter between myself and H into perceived bullying (I am the non-victim of someone who is not victimising me). What would simply be having a different point-of-view verges on the need for an argument.

On returning from work, I spent a few quiet minutes upstairs, short enough to not be missed, long enough to shed a single quiet tear and regain my control. Later on that evening, I did something that made H smile, which in turn made me cry.

H suggested we practice making babies and, to add to my misery, my normally limitless libido was non-existent. When we did go to bed I curled into a ball and felt so alone. It would have been easy to ask for a hug, instead I laid there thinking self-destructive thoughts until I eventually fell asleep.

Is this a side effect of the change in dose or is this the real me being uncovered?

Am I feeling different, or am I just truly feeling for the first time in months?

Can I break through this or will it break me?

Monday, September 12, 2005

On the way


On the way
Originally uploaded by j8g.


Met with occupational health, who are very enthusiastic about my decision to change job. I am too, which is something I never thought I would feel about work.



(Picture stolen from Been Broken)

Weaning, Take 2, Part III

Drugs of choice:
30mg Fluoxetine (40mg today, 20 tomorrow)
PG Tips


Day 4 and I haven't broken down yet. How positively optimistic am I? I have found myself feeling a little more nervous about things than usual, but not worryingly so. I guess having identified this change, I am in control of it.

I have a meeting with our occupational health team this afternoon. This is to discuss my decision to change job, as much to cover their backs should I accuse them of forcing me into the change as it is to check that I'm happy. I am quite excited about the change, as my current role is completely failing to light my fire.

I've been on anti-depressants for almost 10 months now, although with the benefit of hindsight I can see that I have had a history of depression for the last 20 years. I don't think I've recovered, as such, just risen to a point where I no longer contemplate suicide on a daily basis. I have a better understanding of my moods, of my drivers and of the therapies available. I think it is realistic, not pessimistic, to consider that there is a chance of me slipping back, either in a few weeks or a few years. To accept that is not defeat, it is a safety precaution. Denying this possibility would risk delaying future treatment should it be necessary.

Not that I'm out of the woods yet. I think I'm approaching a clearing and this woodland metaphor is stirring up certain pixie fantasies.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Weaning, Take 2, Part II

Drugs of choice:
30mg Fluoxetine (20mg today, 40 tomorrow)
Champagne
Crazy Chick, Charlotte Church (lyrics somewhat apt and, yes, I most definitely would)


First day on a reduced dose. Too early to feel any different, other than a general positive feeling that I am trying to maintain. It seems ironic that in today's news there is a story about people not being given the right kind of support when trying to stop taking anti-depressants. As it happens, I think my current GP is excellent, so I guess I'm lucky.

About two months ago, I wrote this:

My biggest concern is the 5 days a week working up here. How will I cope? How will I cope if things go according to plan and H becomes pregnant after we marry and gives up work?

So, I enter a period of trepidation.

Can I cope physically and mentally working 5 days here?
Can I cope financially if I go part time, and only work 4 days a week?
Or can I cope financially if I take a significantly lower paid but full time job in the other office?


No, H isn't pregnant!

However, opportunity has coincided with desire, and I have been given the chance to change to a job in my 'local' office. It is a pretty big pay cut, but it should balance with a saving in running costs on the car. I will still go up to the other office once or twice a week, so I can still car share with H and will even be able to claim back my fuel costs on some journeys. Combined with a drop in my tax bill after losing the company car, things should work out ok.

I hope.

The real benefit is working in a better environment, in a job that I have more experience in that is a lot more exciting. There are times where I find my current role just so boring. That is no way to keep motivated.

It has been an eventful week.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Weaning, Take 2, Part I

Drugs of choice:
40mg Fluoxetine (for now)
8mg Acrivastine (as required)
Fajitas
Frances the Mute (The Mars Volta)


It's almost five months since my last attempt at weaning off the anti-depressants.

I went to see my GP this morning, just a usual appointment to check how things are going before renewing my prescription. We discussed how things have been positive lately, the occasional down but mostly consistent ups. So we agreed to try again. For the next fortnight I will drop down to 30mg of Fluoxetine per day, which means taking one 20mg capsule tomorrow and two the day after, repeating that pattern for a while. Then trying to go down to just one tablet every day.

I have mixed feelings about this. I'm not scared, just a little nervous. It's a positive step, which means a lot to me, but even more to H. I can read my signs, I know the difference between grumpy and a down, so I know that I can always go back up to two a day.

I think I have been coasting for the last few weeks, which would probably explain this blog being a little slow. I need to think more about my actions to manage myself through this change. Time for a little extra self-analysis, which in turn should mean some more posting. After all, posting here is part of my self-prescribed therapy and you are my self-appointed support group.

Please ensure your safety harness is firmly in place and keep your arms within the car. The ride is about to start.

Friday, September 02, 2005

No S**t

Exercising / Exorcising

Drugs of choice:
40mg Fluoxetine
8mg Acrivastine (definitely required)
Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd, Atmosfear Trance Remix)
Bacon and Eggs


'Broke' has been writing about exercise and its effect, both positive and negative, on his depression lately. It's a topic that is close to my heart (or close to my mind, perhaps) as I always feel a positive boost when I have the opportunity to go out cycling.

Yesterday was one such time. As I had to drop off my old company car, rather than mess about with lifts or whatever, I put my bike in the boot and cycled the 22 miles home. The weather was good, not too hot but perhaps a little too windy, so it was hard work. My bike is nothing special, but it is at least set up to do better on road than most others who struggle on mountain bikes. Road tyres make such a difference, and while I'm not particularly fit, you feel like the strongest man in the world when you go zooming past another cyclist. Your mind clears itself of the humdrum and you can either focus on nothing but pushing the pedals or on the big issues that otherwise get clouded.

About 5 miles of my journey is on a busy, fast dual carriageway. There is no cycle path, just a few feet between me and the arctics doing 56mph or cars doing 90+. It occurred to me just how easy it would be to die out there. A quick swerve and I could be under the wheels of a lorry. Nobody would suspect it was suicide (until now, anyway, damned blog) so there would be no worries over whether my dependants received insurance payments. So it's a good thing that I feel positive during such rides.

Mind you, the last 6 miles became bloody painful. Tired legs, sore backside. Too much drinking and eating during the honeymoon.

There is a detrimental effect, though. Last night I was tired, even more tired than usual. When I get tired I tend to get grumpy and by about 10pm I was downright miserable. I decided I wasn't going to come into work this morning, instead I was going to sulk and wallow.

For some reason I changed my mind when I woke up, probably fear of worrying or upsetting H. I'm glad I did, my mental state cannot be ruled by my energy levels, for that is a dangerous spiral. I have come into work, I will get better.

Such resolve was tested while 'desk skiving'. This beautiful post on a Beautiful Revolution nearly made me cry, it certainly made me dizzy.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

End of an era

Drugs of choice:
40mg Fluoxetine (still)
8mg Acrivastine as required
Turin Brakes
Wedding cake


I shouldn't really complain about losing my company car. I was lucky to have one in the first place. It's more a case of what it symbolises, the end of high-flying-JAG.

When I first ordered the car, I had just been promoted. A six month secondment had turned into a year, which then turned into a permanent position. I was at the top of my game (for want of a better expression). I could do no wrong and I was going far.

I was promoted again in the time that followed. Very few of my colleagues had company cars, none of them had an Alfa. I was at my most confident, which is how I managed to change car sharing with H into a love affair.

Then I came crashing back down to earth. When I was finally able to return to work it was to a different, lower position and the car had to go.

I am slowly returning to 'normality' and this includes my daily transport. Far more practical, it should cost me about two pound less each time I drive to the office. It is also a big, family friendly car, H and I would like to expand our family to make use of it. So I'm not really negative about the Pug. It's a great car, perfect for my needs and good to drive. The loss of the Alfa marks the end of an era.

And the start of a new one.

Farewell, old friend.


Farewell, old friend.
Originally uploaded by j8g.
My 60,000 miles are up and my job no longer comes with a company car. So, farewell to my beautiful Alfa. We have had our ups...

She was beautiful inside and out and to the ear

She was fantastic to drive - a real driver's car, happy to do 120+, few cars got in her way on the motorway, even fewer expected to pass her

Car sharing in her led to flirting, love and marriage to H

We spent a wonderful honeymoon putting the last miles on her around France, Italy and Switzerland



...and our downs...

She guzzled oil and petrol

Her clutch cracked

Her catalytic converter disintegrated

Her engine management system didn't

She blew bulbs frequently

Her radio never really worked properly

Her suspension creaked



Of course, being a company car, I never had to pay to fix any of her problems (although the petrol bill was all mine). Now I return to the real world, paying for services, tax and insurance on a second hand car. A Peugeot 406. Estate. Diesel.



Ciao bella.



--

Sent from my Treo