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Not Writing & Quitting SSRI

September 20, 2018
Rain falling on lily pads at Van Dusen Gardens. 

I haven’t written anything in a long time. I guess I thought this story was done. I’m in a relationship now. No more weird dating drama to report. I thought I might start a new blog in Vancouver. I set it up and everything. All I’ve written so far is one blog about my disappointment that Sweden didn’t win the fireworks competition.

Not surprisingly no one has read it. 

You’d think I’d have plenty of material in a big city. I could get 500 words out of one transit trip alone. Maybe I should start bringing a notepad on my train trips. I could continue to write about my everlasting struggle with depression. I don’t know why I’ve been shy about writing about that on the new blog. I guess maybe I thought this one could be different. More normal? More sophisticated? Ha. Who do I think I am?

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Status Update:
Still with Mr. Canada. Our relationship seems to be all over the place sometimes. He still infuriates me to the point of my losing my temper and walking out occasionally. He calls me a hot head. He’s also the kindest person I’ve ever been with. He gives me total compassion and understanding in all things. Even when I lose my temper. He’s the most supportive friend and partner I’ve ever had. As much as I hate to write the following words as it goes against my feminist sensibilities, he takes care of me. He takes care of me better than anyone I’ve ever known (except maybe my mother). And the truth is, I think I need some taking care of. Let’s face it, I’m kind of a fuck up. I was watching Bridesmaids last night with Nigel and he kept chastising Kristen Wig’s character as she stooped lower and lower in her life, ending up moving in with her mom. The only difference between her and me was I moved in with my boyfriend, not my mom. I’m just as much a loser as her character is. I didn’t point that out to him.

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Speaking of Depression:

I decided to wean off my depression meds for the following reasons:

They don’t always work. I’m still getting depressed often.

I’m tired of worrying about getting them from Oregon. It’s giving me anxiety wondering if I’ll be able to get refills mailed to me on time. It’s not exactly legal and my daughter has to lie to get them to me. 

So, I’ve been experimenting with cannabis. I’ve done some research and some people have been successful in getting off their meds by taking micro doses of CBD daily. I’ve been trying that out as I attempt to stagger my wellbutrin doses. But that’s causing its own problems. Turns out, there’s no easy way to wean off. Every online search for info found endless tales of weeks of withdrawal symptoms and a dip back into depression. I’m already feeling it from the staggered dosage. I feel physically weak and emotionally numb, bored and sad. I’m trying to mitigate this with cannabis pills, but I think my dosage is too small. Maybe I need to up a bit. 

I also want to try more THC heavy dosages. Maybe if I go for a real high I can get some relief from the melancholy that seems to be my default setting. I miss feeling happy. Those days are the exception, not the rule. 

Mr. Canada is remarkably supportive of my cannabis experimentation. I can’t imagine trying this when I was Mr. K. Oh, the judgement that would have come down on me. But not Mr. C. Even when he’s the one footing the cost, he said he is willing to do anything that would help with my mental health and happiness. Meanwhile, I worry about bringing him down. He’s so chill and happy all the time. What must it be like to have such a downer girl friend who’s paralyzed by sadness so often? I worry that I’m not a good thing in his life, though he tells me I am. He worries about me. I can see it in his face and in his questions. Then I worry that his concern is making him unhappy. If I could just find some balance and relief.

I’m hoping that over the coming months, I can wean off at least one of my meds, find a low-cost cannabis routine that keeps me stable and start the new year with a new way of being well. As for writing…..I guess I’m not done here yet. It feels like speaking to the void, but I think that works for me right now. Maybe I just haven’t found my Vancouver voice yet. 

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