Yesterday was a bit of a disaster.
It was supposed to be a relaxing day. Sam and I were going to run an errand, then we were going to have lunch and maybe pop into the comics shop before coming back here to spend the afternoon reading and relaxing. I was supposed to catch up on blog comments and reading and coffee-having. (I’m sorry I haven’t answered any comments from you lovely people in a few days. I’ve managed to keep up with the writing, but I haven’t managed to keep up with the comments or the reading.)
That’s not quite what happened yesterday, though.
When we got up yesterday, I was still reeling a bit from hearing the news of the attacks in Paris and from seeing images across the world of other attacks, other countries–Beruit. Iraq. Syria. There weren’t words big enough to talk about the horror or small enough to talk about the impotency I felt, and so I didn’t mention them in the coffee share. I couldn’t figure out how to talk about events so far away and so large and so heart-breaking. Instead, we chatted a bit over coffee about my rather uneventful week, and then I was off to run my errands with Sam.
But I made a rather crucial miscalculation.
I’m on Viibryd for my anxiety and depression, a medication that I have to take each morning when I wake up, and I have to take it with food (otherwise I get violently ill). We thought we’d pick up breakfast on the drive to nearby town to pick up a few things, but then we ran into a traffic jam, and then we were just ready to get back home. And in all of the hubbub after we got home at lunchtime, I forgot to take my meds. I forgot so much, in fact, that I didn’t even realize it until Sam asked me about it later—by which point I was in full blown panic attack.
Because that’s what happens when I forget that particular med. It’s one of the things that happens, anyway. Biiiig mood swings and panic attacks, feeling absolutely hopeless, and…itching. The itching would’ve eventually clued me in that I’d forgotten my pill, but luckily Sam reminded me before that particularly unpleasant one kicked in. I’d assumed my mood swings were just the PMDD-related ones that I get around this time of month, but it was that plus my forgotten medication.
A few hours later all was well again, but that still meant we’d lost the later half of the day/evening during my withdrawal and then re-administering said meds. It’s weird to be on a medicine with that many consequences when I dose is just hours off its normal schedule. But the Viibryd works, and lots of other things don’t.
Sam tried to lure me out of the house with promises of a visit to the bookstore or comics shop, with dinner and all sorts of things. But eventually we settled for a little bit of wine and a movie, then reading our respective right-now books: I dove back into 1Q84, which I will one day maybe finish, and Sam picked up the Sandman Overture collection that we got this week and I read immediately; it’s fantastic, by the way.
Today there are lots of things to finish up that we didn’t manage to do yesterday, and at least I’m feeling much better to do them now. I’ll start with answering all of those comments you amazing people have left me over the last few days and the wonderful coffee posts waiting on the link-up.