I laugh more often now, I cry more often now,
I am more me.
Peter Bjorn and John, “Objects of My Affection”
A few weeks ago I started the process of switching medications for my depression. I’ve written about my reasons for seeking treatment before, but I want to go back to an analogy I made about how my medication was working for me:
The fun thing about medication and mental health is that it’s not like treating a headache or fever. You’re decreasing a physical symptom in order to allow yourself the ability to do the work of overcoming the mental obstacle.
It’s a 1-up mushroom, not a warp pipe.
“Medication is a 1-Up, Not a Warp Pipe.”
It was difficult to see for a while, because of a lot of external stressors, but the medication I was taking no longer had the same impact. It was like when you already have a fire flower, then you bonk another ? block and it gives you another fire flower.
Initially my doctor thought increasing dosages of my current medications might do the trick. It did not. So now I’m making a switch. It’s still a little early to say if this is the right choice, but I’ve noticed some things:
- During the changeover, I have felt a lot more emotionally fragile. It’s easier to get me to cry (but this is lessening as I get used to the new meds).
- There was an amount of brain fog I was dealing with that seems to be clearing. Decision making and motivation are making a comeback.
- I’m singing more often. Just like little bits and making up silly songs as part of the day, like singing to the dog when it’s time to take her out for a pee or reminding the kids that it’s time to get their boots on and head to school.
- In general, some of my silliness has come back. For a while I’ve been wondering if using humor was a form of masking, but at the moment it feels like just another tool in the toolbox.
Reading a post from Tracy Durnell, I’ve been thinking about what I’ve done with this blog in the past, and what I do with it in the future, because in the current environment it seems that sharing thoughts intentionally is best done in your own space on your own terms. It’s the what to share part that’s been tripping me up, because of that voice in my head that says I should only share something when I know it’s absolutely the best version I could ever make of it.
There is some relationship between writer and reader in blogging, even if it’s chiefly one-directional besides the occasional comment. The trick is finding the sweet spot of vulnerability for a general, unknown audience. I enjoy reading about other bloggers’ and writers’ personal lives and have benefited from others sharing about their challenges, like mental health; I also want to be able to be known as a person from my writing and pay it forward if sharing my experiences can help others.
Tracy Durnell, “Blogging’s emotional obstacles”
It’s easy to forget the ways that blogging used to be social. It used to feel like a conversation instead of a branding opportunity or a platform. It can feel that way again.
It’s the first time in months I’ve felt the urge to get out of bed before the rest of the house is up and sit down at the keyboard. That’s not all because of the medication shift, because I’ve changed some other things as well.
Maybe I’ll have more to share on that later.
This Builds Character 