Yet another unsolicited admission of human frailty that will probably make life insurance out of reach:
More than a week ago, I started an SSRI. I've been on them before and will maybe, some day, try them again.
One week ago, I went batshit crazy insane--quietly. I didn't wake anyone up as I lay on the floor counting off half hours until I called 911 to save me from my own brain. "if it's worse in a half hour, I'll call"
I didn't call, but I did go off that SSRI cold turkey. Yowza--turns out I don't mind standard depression and panic so much after all.
I've never had an experience like that before and I have no interest in having another, ever again. Despair and fear is familiar territory (I imagine it is for almost anyone who makes it to adolescence) this was quite another place and I'd rather not visit again.
It's taking a while to recover from the utter lunatic batshirtiness. But today I went to a school event, and I wrote a page that won't be deleted probably. And I got new shoes.
These are very comfy running shoes from a not-at-all glitzy store where you run on a treadmill and they videotape you and tell you what's wrong with your feet. Pronating! PRONATING!
So I'm back to embracing life and I'm spending money--same thing in some wealthier corners of the world.