Head Pills

How appropriate. Lustral sounds like a term used to describe a highly sexed lady. Until this evening, I had no idea that the brand name for sertraline was Lustral.

Fairly recently it dawned on me that I have been living with depression and anxiety my whole life. As a very young child, I used to be filled with blind panic over the most minor things, but I never told anybody because I was embarrassed. I used to suffer in silence. It was also a usual part of my existence to feel alone and outside of everyone else, and let's face it, I was always a bit different.

As my teens progressed, it got worse, along with my homelife (which has been previously mentioned). I used to refer to it as "my alien", because it often felt like I had something very tangible gripping onto my head and brain, like one of the crab-like creatures from the movie Alien. And everything was grey. I felt like a layer of film had been spread over my senses, preventing colours from appearing quite so bright, stopping me from appreciating the sunlight on my skin. And I was either filled with unbearable sadness, or I was numb. I would spend hour after hour after hour after hour laying on my bed in the darkness of my room.

But you deal with things. Eventually.

And there have been some big ups along the way, and some fucking deep, deep downers.

It was in April that I was prescribed sertraline. This was a very big deal, because I have always been very anti head pills, having watched Prozac fuck my mother up, a previous partner up, and turn me into a zombie during the brief time I took them when I was younger. But I had to get stuff done. I needed to find a place to live, I needed to finish my teacher-training, I needed to find the strength to walk away from my relationship with Alistair (which, of course I didn't). My doctor was wonderful, and surprisingly for the NHS, sympathetic and careful about what she gave me. And actually, it has really helped.

Sertaline reduces my anxiety to a manageable level, it tames the depression, and even reduces my OCD. Unfortunately, it makes it incredibly hard for me to reach orgasm. But I can live with that.

And my ability to deal with things improved a lot after I started taking these magic little head pills. This was helped on by the fact that I had managed to build up a degree of emotional distance from Alistair, thus removing some of the headfuckedness from my life. Perhaps foolishly, I have let myself fall in a bit deeper with Alistair. This has brought back some of the distress.

And last night I forgot to take a head pill. I did that last week, and clearly did not learn my lesson. If I do not take a pill, I am plunged into a pit of despair and anxiety. I have spent most of the day in bed, sleeping where I can, and just staring at the ceiling at other moments. And the thoughts go round and around and around in my head.

I just want to be held, but I am very conscious of inflicting myself on people. In any case, Courtney is in the next room having one of his lows. Alistair is out with the ex and her cousin. And even if he wasn't, I am uncomfortable being sad around him because he hates being around depressed people. He says he is not good with them, and ends up feeling depressed himself, and I don't want to be a burden.

Added to this is the fact that I am concerned he feels that we are spending too much time together. The other night, he told me that he was worried that we had bypassed the whole "dating thing" again. And he he said he wants some nights to himself next week, having intended on having them this week, but being unable to because stuff has got in the way. Tuesday night was one of the first nights where he slept in his bed by himself, without me, or the ex, or one of his harem. And he slept really well. I felt bad this morning, having spent the night with him, knowing that I affected his sleep. When I am ok, I don't have bad dreams, and sleep like a log, but when I am depressed, I am prone to nasty dreams, and I toss and turn. In the early hours of the morning, I woke Alistair up, he said I had screamed. And I remember doing that in my dream, but I guess I did it in reality too. He said my cries had become progressively louder. I remember the dream, but I can't describe it here because it was so weird and twisted, it wouldn't make any sense, but it was frightening.

So right now, my head is on a stupid irrational spiral. And I keep thinking about what is going to happen. Is this a sign that we are not compatible? Am I an idiot to be asking such a question? We have been seeing each other for a year... He is in love with the ex, and in love with me... Is this a sign that we wouldn't be able to live together?... We did for a couple of months at the beginning of the year, and we were happy... Should I even be having these thoughts?

I am so unsure of everything.

If there is a prince charming out there, I sure could use you right now.