I spent a lot of time today wondering why I’m doing this, going through treatment for the depression and all. Yeah, I’ve seen some improvement, in the past. The first two times on new medications I did actually get a boost for a while. Even made it through a family reunion without stressing out – even went in the ocean, swimming in the ocean, and had fun doing it for the first time in I don’t know how many years.

But after a few weeks, the boost stops… and dosage changes make no difference. Before this new one, I was pretty well back at ground zero, BUT back at ground zero and at the same time desperately trying to convince myself I wasn’t. I had this thing going where I noticed I had stopped doing things that I’d started doing earlier that had made me go, “Hey, look what I’m doing! Wow, medicine works after all!” except that I couldn’t take the fact that I’d now stopped again as evidence the medicine was no longer working, because the fact that I noticed and knew I wasn’t doing those things anymore meant it didn’t count, because if I just tried a little harder maybe that would have made things work? (I’m pretty sure that’s not a normal train of thought. Haven’t checked with anyone though, so I’m not positive.)

I kept trying to analyze the prior few weeks, looking for evidence that the medication was actually working and maybe I just hadn’t noticed.

(Yes, I have been told that this logic is in fact evidence that the medication was not working at all. What can I say? It made sense in my head.)

So then this new medication, which apparently comes with anxiety as a side effect in the first week or two, and also combined with PMS hormones was not a joy. All the medications so far have done this; the week before was pretty much back to square one after starting a new med. Except with the SSRIs (new one is an SNRI), the effect was less pronounced… didn’t even recognise what was happening until after it was over. This one, I recognized in-process, at least, after writing an incoherent angry blogpost while at the same time foaming at the mouth about how stupid the new Doctor Who is and how they have made Daleks and cybermen completely and totally ineffective at being convincing threats through sheer overuse (none of which is what I actually said, but it’s what I meant. What I said was the useless sort of ranting you do when you can’t be bothered to think straight and try to have a rational conversation and you just assume that people will be able to read your mind and sort out your actual thoughts).

But yeah, the last week got bad. It’s been better, since starting the new dose, but in this case better just means “normal” bad. Hence, the question. Is it worth it? So far all I’ve been able to do long term is make myself feel worse. I’ve pretty much stopped believing that anything is actually going to help; two things that seemed like they were going to help and then let me down is enough. Ok, I suppose part of me still believes because I’m still doing what the doctor said. But it’s more a sort of “Ok, I’m going to do this, but if it works I am going to be totally shocked” than a “hey, yeah, I can see how that will help; let’s go for it!”

I don’t see light at the end of the tunnel. There’s no train  (since the oncoming train gag was the first stupid cliché I thought of) but that’s because there’s no tracks. There’s not anything, really, it’s just tunnel that goes on forever.

Cartoons next time, if I get a chance to draw tomorrow. May not; DH injured his shoulder and he’s pretty much out of commission as far as handling puppies and small boys goes, so I was on full Mommy duty tonight and probably will be tomorrow, too. That’s ok, me and the small boy are going to make candy together. I have turtle molds, and I bought mint chocolate chips. Found my druidry book last night, too.