GONDOR MAYBE ACTUALLY NEEDS SOME ANTIDEPRESSANTS

SO.  I have this thing where every now and again my brain sort of flips around backwards, just kind of sloshes to and fro in my skull until everything is a bit frothy and weird in there, and in that state, my brain spawns plans which are, by any definition, deranged.  I mean like ten degrees off the nutty chart, right, like sixteen kinds of bananapants batshit, but of course my vision is skewed at the time so I'm all, oh hell yes it's brilliant brilliant BRILLIANT!  Like Wile E. Coyote buying an Acme Suckomatic or your standard mad scientist trying to conquer the world with flying robot hamsters, only the consequences are less cartoony. 

 

The person who usually slaps me out of it is, of course, my best friend Jules, who has a level of tolerance for bananapants wackery that must be experienced to be believed.  Sometimes, though- not often but it happens- I manage to brake before I go off the cliff and make a big mess that Julia will have to help me hoover up.

 

All this to say, I guess I am not going to go through with my genius plan to go cold turkey off duloxetine and just, like, tough out the withdrawal.  It's an appealling thought because I would like please to quit it with the psychotropic medications so I can be smug and superior about their non-importance in my life ("Gondor has no antidepressants!  Gondor needs no antidepressants!").  But the list of symptoms for abrupt discontinuation reads like a menu of terrible, everything from "electric shock sensations" to tinnitus and seizures, so, you know, maybe...just...not.  I've already experienced what happens if you miss your dose of magic pixie dust for a couple of days- for me, it means staggering around limp and half-asleep with a head full of molten lead, and nights of sharp-vivid-horrible dreams- but I thought that I might as well take the plunge, knuckle up, something something combination of metaphors, and just get it over with.

 

Lost my nerve this week and made the appointment to get the prescription renewed.  Le sigh; no knuckling up today.  On the plus side, hopefully this means that my head will remain sufficiently intact to finally get this bloody manuscript done.  So nobody send out the constabulary if there is no action from me for a while.  I will be locked in the BennyCave, popping the damn wretched pills and staring malevolently at a wall of text, making bad things happen to non-existent people, with Buckminster at my side wondering just what on earth she did to deserve me.

See you on the other side.