Wellbutrin - Day 3

[the_fantastic_ms_fox]

It's been around six and a half years since I went on blockers and hormones.

And fuck, do I ever miss rectifying biochemical imbalances via well-tested pharmaceuticals with pleiopsychotropic (i.e. not-really-understood and numerous mental) effects .

Of late, I'd been having short, intense spells of falling down a mental hole. And no amount of mindfulness could take the edge off. Of course, I had trouble with the mindfulness - but was the determining variable situational or neurochemical? Well, no matter how awesome my life was, I still felt kinda crap. So if it's situational, it's complicated.

So, after talking to and getting support from three friends of mine with related problems, I did the smart thing and phoned the mental health line. They gathered that I wasn't about to off myself, so they put me on a list. Days later, I got a call back from a staffer. She mentioned a program that my friends have been through. This required a referral.

I saw the doctor on Wednesday. He recommended a combination of drugs and therapy.

I had a very bad experience with Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRI's) as a youth. They muffled my emotions and my feelings of body and sex which made it hard to figure out I was trans - and the stress from being closeted was the lead direct and indirect cause for the mental ill health for which I was prescribed said SSRIs. They also made it impossible to orgasm and landed me in the hospital with severe stomach pains.

Not realizing that they were a problem, I was on them from shortly after puberty until I was 22. Fuck SSRI's. Right.

Here's the thing. My mum has anxiety issues. And my father had a fatal case of depression. And my grandfather died of complications after a decade-long decline into Parkinson's - that was a shitty way to go. When you have one parent with a moderate neurochemical imbalance, and one parent and one grandparent who died from them, maybe it's a bit fool to think that you can game your way out of the depression.

I'd had some experiences with other medication that left me feeling rather good for a week as a side-effect. I mentioned this to my doctor.

"That's dopamine."

Now, a dopamine deficiency is what causes Parkinson's.

So when he suggested that I instead take a dopamine reuptake inhibitor, one that wouldn't cause sexual side-effects and which might, in the long term, avert a slow decline into what's basically a whole-body paralysis (eventually you can't swallow or talk) I said yes.

Side effects are most intense for the first two weeks. And apparently, the stronger the side-effects, the greater the indication that it's doing something that your body needs.

Well, the inside of my nose is as dry as waking up from anesthesia, my dreams are even more wild and vivid than usual and most of the time, my mouth feels... weird and I feel like I just drank two cups of coffee. And it seems to be getting more intense. I am looking forward to this wearing off, but the ride is interesting.

This is in theory a good sign. But it scares me a bit. A friend of mine (her initials are not "RL," so let's use that handle) started on Adderall. I remember saying that she seemed weird, but she swore by it.

Adderall is a drug for attention deficit. And it also contains an amphetamine-analogue.


This marked the beginning of a two-year decline. As with many Adderall users, RL got a lot done - but like the college student who drops some pills the night before an exam, then stays up all night organizing her record collection, she lost all sense of task priority. This made employment impossible. Paranoia. Hostility. Almost total social withdrawal. I miss her. I'm also very angry at her. It's hard to bridge these with mental illness and addiction.

I have explained to her that I think the drug is fucking her up. But when she misses a few doses, she gets so addled and depressed that she goes back on. She believes that this is her natural state without the drug. I remember her from before, and I believe that this is her state in withdrawal from it.

                 I want to have a word with whomever is prescribing her the shit.

So I have a lot of reasons to be skittish.


What can I tell? I'm getting a lot of work done. I think I'm prioritizing well. Not great, but maybe better than I was a week ago. It may also be that I'm more aware of not prioritizing. Of course, I have a new productivity program, so that may be a factor. And I feel better. Now, the latter may be situational rather than neurochemical. Wellbutrin generally doesn't work this fast, so it may be optimism over my mental health, getting home after a long trip followed by illness, or it may feel like I have some space at work. And my clitoris got at least semi-repaired. On the other hand, things in my small business are something like "possible hope in the face of possible total catastrophe," my financial situation is the worst it's been since my early twenties, and I rarely see people outside of work.

But one thing is clear - the irrational one-hour period around sunset of horrible mood and feelings of futility? Diminished on some days; gone on others. Let's hope it stays like that.

It's only thee days so far. That's a small sample set.

If you see me in person, feel free to analyze my behaviour and speak to me.


Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to prioritize myself into bed. I have an early call to set tomorrow.

        Where I will be playing a dude.

             In a lead role.

                And that is another story.