I’m on my third day of escitalopram oxalate.
It’s a drug used to treat depression and anxiety and it works by restoring the balance of serotonin in my brain. My family doctor prescribed me 20mg worth after watching me melt into a pool of snot, tears and ragged breaths in her office. She’s known me long enough to understand what my own mind cannot – that what I’ve been feeling over this past year isn’t really me. That the voices on endless loop in my head whispering bad shit are wrong.
She told me I have a disease which I’m struggling to come to terms with. Disease implies a random mass of cells mutating or a chance encounter with an airborne pathogen. Not, for instance, finding it impossible to eat because your food looks like bugs.
The medication will take weeks before I know if it’s really working. The side effects in the meantime are not the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, but they’re no fucking picnic either: I’m tense all over, my jaw aches, and I’m fighting back nausea. My stomach twists and gurgles in disgust and I know I should eat something – but the thought of trying to eat anything at this moment makes my mouth sweat.
I hate vomiting more than I hate not sleeping.
Which is the other shitty after effect. I’ve been an insomniac since I was 16 so while lack of sleep is not a new thing for me, waking up every 2 hours in the night with my muscles clenched isn’t a great way to get some rest.
I’m not really sure why I’m writing all this down. My friend G thought recording my reactions to the meds would help when I see the doctor again next week. I write – short stories and fic and I’m hoping to finally write that novel/comic book/script idea that’s been banging around my brain for year(s).
Maybe this will help. Maybe this will just document my fall down the rabbit hole.
The quote’s from Kushiel’s Avatar by Jacqueline Carey. It’s something that’s been on repeat in my head lately.
Seemed like a good place to start.