Sometimes the link between what I write and what I am listening to is pretty tenuous, and this is possibly one of THOSE times. But I am going with it.
I have been listening to a LOT of Ned’s Atomic Dustbin recently. I have no idea where this came from, not that I didn’t listen to both God Fodder and Are You Normal constantly when they were released… They both got a lot of airtime, a bit like Ned’s did! But recently they’ve come back onto my playlist, and I am loving it. Now on to the subject at hand…
This week, I went to see my GP.
We talked about my rampant Chest Infection and my Fibro. The former is not the subject of this blog, if we’re honest. It’s the Fibro, or at least the meds that I’ve been given to help with nerve pain. They’ve given me Duloxetine, which is an SNRI, an antidepressant… So I guess Happy isn’t so tenuous after all?
So why am I writing about this?
I make no attempt to hide the journey I’ve been on with my mental health. It’s been a constant companion since the 1980s, and for the last 20-plus years, I’ve not taken anything for my depression or anxiety.
But here’s the thing. I have taken stuff for my Fibro, and that tends to be antidepressants!
I have had Amitriptyline and Nortriptyline – both of which are old-school tricyclic drugs. Not particularly nice, and not really that effective, if I am honest. But this time it’s hitting me a bit harder, both the Fibro symptoms and the fact that my GP wants me to take meds that I swore I’d never take again.
Let’s be clear: I have zero issue with anyone who takes antidepressant drugs for their mental health.
That is your choice, and you need to do what is right for your health. It’s just that I have made it my ‘thing’ to ride whatever comes my way with as little drug-related intervention as possible. Be that physical or mental. It’s been like that for ages, mainly because of the side effects that I’ve often experienced.
But the issue with that is that my Fibro is getting worse, and now I have to eat my words. Not something that I do lightly. I’ve argued with myself since Tuesday night about what to do with the said Duloxetine.
There has been wailing and gnashing of teeth because I really don’t want it.
Although this is a newer drug, the side effects are still shite. Think mania and suicidal thoughts, not to mention the usual gastro issues and more. Oh, and you can’t drink on it! Not that I drink that much these days anyway… Although in the 90s I was quite successful at getting absolutely shit faced on top of taking prescribed drugs (I know, it’s not big and it’s not clever, but it was a trauma response, ok?).
I am currently at the point where I am going to pick it up on Monday and take it.
I am seeing myself as an experiment. If I can take this and it helps resolve some of the pain I live with daily, then I have made peace with that. However, if the effects are shite, then I am going back to see the GP to see what else we can do.
I guess this is where the lyrics of Happy really come in:
Feeling so frustrated
Even antiquated
‘Cause you can’t update me
If I’m overrated
So frustrated
So frustrated
You can’t update this
The frustration I have right now is off the charts. My Fibro is stopping me from doing a lot of things right now, but mentally I am perfectly intact (get the link there?), so I am playing a balancing act with Duloxetine.
Hoping that it will help my physical symptoms, but not destroy me mentally.
I have to add that I totally trust my GP. We have very interesting conversations about life when I go and see him… So although I am being a proper brat about this, I do value his opinion, and he did agree that the old tricyclics were not the answer (along with having a conversation about me being hardcore because I drink neat Jack Daniels…).
And with that, I am off to shout at the football, probably not ideal for either my lungs or my nerves! (Stuttgart v Dortmund if you’re interested, could end in tears…)
