Coming alive
I just went to the doctor yesterday. It’s been a long time since I’ve been. I’m kind of afraid of doctors. Weary. Trepid. It’s all the money, and the perscriptions that might work, but you have to start with low dosages, and it takes a million weeks to start working, and funky side effects (especially with SSRIs and related drugs), etc. etc. I’ve tried three or four different antidepressants over the past couple years. But I finally found it in me to force myself to go. Probably seeing my brother finally find a medication to help him with his problem, which incidentally is the same as mine, was a spur. And I got a perscription for Concerta. And the difference is truly incredible. All of a sudden, my mind is full of ideas again. It’s like anything that, before, had some sort of barrier involved—a particular kind of mental barrier, a familiar feeling—now is accessible to me. It’s as if certain tasks required me to “drive uphill” mentally, and I didn’t have the energy to do that. I could go downhill, and perhaps along straight areas. Now I can go uphill.
I think I might start blogging more often.
