Tied Together With a Smile

I write too much. I write way too much. In any case, I don't expect most people to read it. This post is most definitely mostly for me. It's to clear my mind, and to get my thoughts out of my head. Who knows though, maybe you'll learn something, or maybe you'll read something that gets you thinking. At the very least I'm sure you'll learn something new about me.

You may or may not be aware, but I am addicted to drugs. It's okay, I'm not really addicted- I'm just dependent. My life would definitely be much different without them. Oh, I guess I should probably let you know that it's a prescription drug. You didn't really think I was a druggie did you?

It's called Venlafaxine: Venlafaxine is used to treat depression. Venlafaxine extended-release (long-acting) capsules are also used to treat generalized anxiety disorder (GAD; excessive worrying that is difficult to control), social anxiety disorder (extreme fear of interacting with others or performing in front of others that interferes with normal life), and panic disorder (sudden, unexpected attacks of extreme fear and worry about these attacks). Venlafaxine is in a class of medications called selective serotonin and norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors (SNRIs). It works by increasing the amounts of serotonin and norepinephrine, natural substances in the brain that help maintain mental balance.

Almost all of my life I had an extreme fear of talking to people and an unnatural fear of being around others. I was the definition of weird. I would walk around staring at the ground, and I would never make eye contact with anyone. I never really talked to anyone. I rarely even talked to my own family. Conversations with my parents involved me mumbling short answers that I'm still amazed they could decipher. I was genuinely a weird kid. It wasn't that I was trying to be, I simply didn't know anything else. If you have ever wondered if people who are weird know they are weird: probably not.

Luckily for me, during my freshman year of college, a good friend of mine convinced me I needed some help. Not the ordinary type of help, but some serious professional help. Somehow or another I ended up at the schools health center talking to a psychiatrist. It was a weird experience. I never saw myself as someone who needed a psychiatrist. They were only for crazy people, or for people who were depressed. In any case, I went, I talked, and I got better. It was the best thing to ever happen to me.

"Venlafaxine controls depression but does not cure it. Continue to take venlafaxine even if you feel well. Do not stop taking venlafaxine without talking to your doctor."

The first sentence is the most important. I may have my depression controlled but I will never have it cured. I learned that lesson about a year ago. I was doing so well, and life seemed to be so fantastic that I figured I would just stop taking my medicine. The first few days I immediately noticed some side effects: agitation, nausea, lack of coordination, confusion, irritability. I just figured it was my body transitioning to the adjustment. 

I decided I'd just ignore the side effects and continue with the process of removing Venlafaxine from my life. That's when the mood swings and irrational thoughts started to kick in. I was acting in ways that made no real sense. The smallest thing would set me off and I would explode into a fit of rage. I had several episodes where I completely went berserk, and almost ruined a few relationships because of it. The worst part about everything is that I had no idea what was going on. I was completely blind to it. It's not that I didn't realize what was going on. I just didn't comprehend what was truly happening.

It's a hard thing to explain to someone what is going on inside of my head. How do I explain to someone that the actions and words I speak are not what's really me? How do I know that the actions and words really aren't my own? That is a scary thought. Is the real me the same me on the drugs? Or is the real me the psychopath that comes out when I'm not on them? I remember watching some movie with Tom Hanks. I think it was Tom Hanks. It was about this genius who ended up being crazy. His entire life was a just a figment of his imagination. That scared me. It hit a little too close to home.

I'm not sure what finally convinced me to go back on the Venlafaxine. I think I finally woke up a little and saw what was happening. I went back to the doctor and got another prescription for it and I've been taking it ever since. So life is grand now isn't it? Well, it's a lot better than it was.

I have every reason in the world to be happy. I have great friends, an amazing family, and I'm at one of my favorite places in the world. But am I? Well, that's probably why I'm writing this. Remember, "Venlafaxine controls depression but does not cure it." So what does that mean? It means it suppresses all those things that I'm feeling inside. It takes all those negative thoughts and turns them into... into nothing. It takes all my emotions and turns them into nothing. I'm not sad, I'm not happy, I'm just here. I'm just me. I don't really feel much of anything it seems like. And that's where I am right now, as I write this. I sit here wondering what it is that I feel. 

I think I feel happy. I'm not sure if I even know what happy feels like. But I think that this is what happy should be. Maybe I'm not. I just know it's a much better feeling than what I have felt for the majority of my life. Life is good. I can find reasons to complain but I don't see why I should. I truly do have everything I want. Well, maybe not everything I want. But I have everything I need, and more. Much, much more.