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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 48941" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>Not me, either. </p><p></p><p>Years ago one of my neurologists was trying to treat my long-term pain with antidepressants. Apparently, low-dose antidepressants are supposed to fool the brain into misreading pain signals. Trouble was, I kept getting weird reactions. I tried a whole lot of different ones. One had me spaced out, almost psychotic. I couldn't sleep; when I did, my mind was a whirl and wouldn't slow down. My thoughts felt superimposed from somewhere else.</p><p></p><p>Another had me so badly sedated I wasn't functioning. We were planning an overseas trip, we'd gone into the city to get our passports and I was a zombie in a wheelchair, barely noticing when spoken to. I'd been taking smaller and smaller doses each day, until I couldn't break the pills up any smaller with any accuracy. I was so sensitive that licking a tablet put me to sleep.</p><p></p><p>The next made me depressed. I would wake at 4 in the morning, sobbing. Rather than disturb husband, I got up, got dressed, grabbed paper & pencil and walked into the bushland over the road to sit and watch the sun come up over the sea. I would sit and write what was in my head. When I showed it to the doctor, he took me off those pills.</p><p></p><p>I've always felt sick when around pot smokers. I can't tolerate the stuff. Then an idiot where I worked slipped me some "herbal cookies" (aka hash brownies, I finally found out later; apparently, very high-quality cannabis resin in it). I was a basket case for three days, holding on to the furniture to stop my feet from leaving the floor. I think I'm just really, really sensitive to the stuff.</p><p></p><p>So when I went into PTSD after difficult child 3's birth, and my psychiatrist wanted to put me on antidepressants, I refused. My brain is about all I've got left, and I need to know it's not being chemically fogged.</p><p></p><p>There are many times I wish I could take them, but I simply can't. These days I try to take as few pills as possible. Some can't be helped; I make sure they're as gentle as possible. I have developed my own ways of dealing with depression, especially the really back, suicidal depressions. I haven't had one of those in a very long time, but they used to be bad. I had to weather them without medications. Some of my coping strategies are a bit weird, but they work. They also work for other people, I shared them back in my counselling days. I guess I developed them as a reaction to all those sensible, rational reasons given to talk us out of a black mood (the comments that don't work, they just make me angry because the person talking just doesn't get it).</p><p></p><p>If you need pills to get you through, so be it. Life is tough, sometimes. A lot of the time. But now, I'm happy. I make sure I am. I work at it. Like BBK always says, "find something beautiful to look at." Tonight it was the full moon rising over the sea, turning it to silver. This morning it was the pearl-blue sky with the lapis lazuli sea beneath, and the glorious, muted green of the trees in the bush we were driving through. The wonderful, twisted, tortured, alive rusty trunks of the Angophora trees, each a unique character, an old friend with weatherbeaten face, greeting me with a smile. difficult child 3's tiger eyes, like the semi-precious stones. There is always something to cling to, to gladden the heart. Even for a minute. Then I hold that minute as a refuge from everything else.</p><p></p><p>If I need to, I go for a walk and escape. I sit and watch the sun rise over the ocean.</p><p></p><p>Marg</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 48941, member: 1991"] Not me, either. Years ago one of my neurologists was trying to treat my long-term pain with antidepressants. Apparently, low-dose antidepressants are supposed to fool the brain into misreading pain signals. Trouble was, I kept getting weird reactions. I tried a whole lot of different ones. One had me spaced out, almost psychotic. I couldn't sleep; when I did, my mind was a whirl and wouldn't slow down. My thoughts felt superimposed from somewhere else. Another had me so badly sedated I wasn't functioning. We were planning an overseas trip, we'd gone into the city to get our passports and I was a zombie in a wheelchair, barely noticing when spoken to. I'd been taking smaller and smaller doses each day, until I couldn't break the pills up any smaller with any accuracy. I was so sensitive that licking a tablet put me to sleep. The next made me depressed. I would wake at 4 in the morning, sobbing. Rather than disturb husband, I got up, got dressed, grabbed paper & pencil and walked into the bushland over the road to sit and watch the sun come up over the sea. I would sit and write what was in my head. When I showed it to the doctor, he took me off those pills. I've always felt sick when around pot smokers. I can't tolerate the stuff. Then an idiot where I worked slipped me some "herbal cookies" (aka hash brownies, I finally found out later; apparently, very high-quality cannabis resin in it). I was a basket case for three days, holding on to the furniture to stop my feet from leaving the floor. I think I'm just really, really sensitive to the stuff. So when I went into PTSD after difficult child 3's birth, and my psychiatrist wanted to put me on antidepressants, I refused. My brain is about all I've got left, and I need to know it's not being chemically fogged. There are many times I wish I could take them, but I simply can't. These days I try to take as few pills as possible. Some can't be helped; I make sure they're as gentle as possible. I have developed my own ways of dealing with depression, especially the really back, suicidal depressions. I haven't had one of those in a very long time, but they used to be bad. I had to weather them without medications. Some of my coping strategies are a bit weird, but they work. They also work for other people, I shared them back in my counselling days. I guess I developed them as a reaction to all those sensible, rational reasons given to talk us out of a black mood (the comments that don't work, they just make me angry because the person talking just doesn't get it). If you need pills to get you through, so be it. Life is tough, sometimes. A lot of the time. But now, I'm happy. I make sure I am. I work at it. Like BBK always says, "find something beautiful to look at." Tonight it was the full moon rising over the sea, turning it to silver. This morning it was the pearl-blue sky with the lapis lazuli sea beneath, and the glorious, muted green of the trees in the bush we were driving through. The wonderful, twisted, tortured, alive rusty trunks of the Angophora trees, each a unique character, an old friend with weatherbeaten face, greeting me with a smile. difficult child 3's tiger eyes, like the semi-precious stones. There is always something to cling to, to gladden the heart. Even for a minute. Then I hold that minute as a refuge from everything else. If I need to, I go for a walk and escape. I sit and watch the sun rise over the ocean. Marg [/QUOTE]
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