Depression Part Three: Highs and Lows

I still can’t remember the name of my medication. What’s up with that? Okay, I went and got the bottle. I’m holding it right now.

Imipramine.

I was right; it does begin with an I.

I’m pretty sure the emphasis is on the second syllable, (Em-IP-rah-mean) but I like emphasizing the third syllable so that it sort of sounds like “Gimme Praline.”

But I digress.

Anyway, the plan is: 25 mg. for a week, 50 mg. for a week, then 75 mg. for two weeks. The doctor warned me that I might not notice anything until week three.

I finished the first week. I felt no effects other than the dry mouth that I’ve already mentioned. I began the 50 milligram dose on a Tuesday. That night I slept until morning for the first time since January. I don’t think I’ve mentioned that I’ve been waking up every morning between 4am and 5am, my stomach churning with anxiety and panic.

Wednesday I felt strange all day. Periodically I would feel a heaviness in my neck and shoulders and get a shot of adrenaline in my gut. I would find myself flinching, waiting for the wave of sadness to hit, but it never did. I had mild anxiety, but I felt… I don’t know… sort of even, I guess.

Thursday the anxiety was gone, and I think I lived through my first normal day in recent memory. I felt good all day. I did my work and was happy to do it. I went home and was happy to see the family.

Friday I was so happy that I worried I might be in a manic state. It even seemed like the colors at the church were brighter. I actually stopped on the way into the building to look in amazement at how green and pretty the plants were. I couldn’t believe how good it felt not to be anxious and sad.

I knew that Friday night would be the big test. Friday night and Sunday morning are the two times of the week when I really get down. Friday night is supposed to be family night at our house. Well, it used to be. Lately it’s been, “Mope around, ignore people, make no plans, let the evening slip away, and get even more depressed” night.

When I walked up to our front door on Friday evening, I was so happy to see everyone. I even went outside and played catch with Reiley, something that she dearly loves and something we haven’t done in a long time. And here’s the thing: I WANTED TO DO IT. I do not remember the last time I actually wanted to do anything like that. Sometimes I play with the kids because I know I’m supposed to, but this time I wanted to.

Wanting to be with people is so wonderful! I had forgotten what that feels like.

Then came Saturday. I woke up feeling a little anxious. By Sunday my anxiety was back. Monday and Tuesday were pretty bad days. For about 24 hours, unless I was asleep, I was feeling butterflies in my stomach. It was the kind of intense anxiety you feel if you are about to get into a fight, or be audited by the IRS, or face some other terrible and dreaded thing. But there was no reason to be anxious.

At one point I paced around the house saying, “There is nothing to be anxious about.” over and over. But that never works.

I felt particularly strange since this kind of free-floating anxiety normally leads me into a very depressed and saddened state of mind. First, I withdraw from all relationships. For some reason it makes me feel worse to talk to people. Then I start looking for my escapes. The computer, a movie, sleep, anything to get my mind off how I am feeling.

But I only felt the anxiety. The wave of depression never hit. I was able to tell myself that my body was still getting used to the medicine. I was able to tell myself not to trust what I was feeling. Saying that out loud helped.

And there was evening, and there was morning, the fourteenth day.

The following Tuesday night I went to 75 milligrams.

rlp

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