Suddenly I have that song "Coming Out of the Dark" stuck in my head. Perhaps I'm about to have a breakthrough. Things have been a bit scary for me for the last couple of months. I've been going through anti-depressant withdrawal from Cymbalta. Let me start out by saying that I'm sure Cymbalta works for some people, but I personally think that it was manufactured in Satan's Sweatshop. Withdrawing from Cymbalta has been pure hell. Hell! I kid you not.
To give you some background, I started taking Cymbalta about a year and a half ago for some anxiety issues. Basically, I was having my 30-year old existential crisis, and I was mourning my 20-year old immortality. It sucked. Hard. So to deal with constant gripping fears of death, I started seeing a therapist who then recommended that I see a doctor about getting on some meds to help deal with my "issues." Right away, I started popping Satan's pills, and I did start feeling a bit better. I was finally able to sleep at home without panicking about my brutal, bloody, untimely demise when the serial killer, whom I was certain was lurking outside my bedroom window, busted through the door and stabbed me in the eye with a screwdriver. Horrific, yes, I think so.
Things seem to be going along nicely for a while, and then I missed my daily Cymbalta dose by a few hours and all hell broke loose. My head felt like it was being electrocuted, and I had the strange senstation that I could hear my eyes moving around in my head. It was messed up. So, I started thinking, what is this medicine doing to my brain that could cause such a reaction? I consulted the Internets for answers and discovered that Cymbalta is not something you wanna play around with. This medicine is hardcore and I'm now convinced that if I had taken it longer, my health would have been in serious jeopardy.
About three months ago, I made the decision to wean myself off of Satan's teat. I made a plan with my doctor, who by the way, had no clue about the horrors of Cymbalta and how difficult the withdrawal is. I really don't think he much had a clue about anything, but that's another story. I relied on the advice of others' posts on www.cymbaltawithdrawal.com. I slowly decreased my dosage two weeks at a time until I was finally off. Shazam! Brain goes nutso.
The first few weeks of no-cymbalta was evil. I felt extremely dizzy, nauseous, and tired. It was hard to function, and near impossible to skate at derby practice. Imagine being dizzy and then strapping eight wheels to your feet, and then take a hip-check from a derby girl. Not a good combination. So I had to sit out of derby for a while. Now, I'm finally physically feeling well enough to go about my routine, but my emotional self is still having issues.
I cannot seem to stop crying. Management of my emotions has become seriously impaired. I will cry if I'm out of milk or pickles. I cry if I read or hear about something awful in the news. I cry if I'm angry or afraid or frustrated or happy or anything. I have become highly sensitive. My emotional regulator is busted. Almost any kind of stressor seems to overwhelm me. Ughh...it sucks.
And it's not just hard on me. It's really hard on the people closest to me too. My boyfriend has been very supportive, but I know it's not easy for him. I'm sure he misses the "real me", the one who isn't borderline cuckoo pants. I just keep telling myself that this is temporary and will pass. I have declared war on Cymbalta and refuse to lose.
So what have I learned from this ordeal? First, just because a doctor says you should take a medication doesn't necessarily mean you should. There are other ways to deal with anxiety, and I only wish I would have tried other alternatives (diet, yoga, meditation, supplements, etc.) before taking Cymbalta. Second, I am responsible for my health. This is really a no-brainer, but I think too many people rely on what their doctors say as solid gold information. It's important to do your own research and educate yourself about your health. Your doctor is only riding in the car - you are the driver. And third, shitty things happen. Life is really hard, and you have to learn as you go. I do not, and will not, ever have it all figured out, whatever it is.
Going forward, I am incorporating some healthy practices into my life. I'm taking a meditation class to learn how to deal with my stress. I'm making exercise a priority. I'm being attentive to how different foods make me feel. Big healthy salad = good times; donuts = go straight to bed and don't talk to anyone on the way. I'm also taking steps forward to explore what I want to do with my career, but that's a whole other post for another day. For now, I'm just focusing on taking it one day at a time, and trusting that it will all work out.
P.S. Knitting has been a lifesaver! I think there is some real truth to the whole knitting as meditation philosophy.
