Take 50

After the internet was completely useless yesterday, to the point that I googled how to use my phone as a hotspot so I could watch Law & Order: SVU while I knit, I complained to Josh and he said he would message the landlord today. So of course it’s working beautifully today. Whatever. Oh Bahrain, how you like to tease me. Now I’m just waiting for the plumber to come back and fix the leak in my bathroom ceiling. He said he would come “someday” (no, not Sunday, SOMEday) so I’m just waiting on pins and needles for that exciting event to occur. 

Back on topic: In the last few months I’ve decreased my Zoloft dose by 1/2 — from 50 to 25mg/day in case anyone cares about the details. I thought that maybe decreasing my dose would cause an increase in other things: alertness, deeper feelings, less apathy, more motivation to do something besides knit and binge watch TV. [I wrote this while we were on vacation and hadn’t read through it again until after writing the top paragraph. I swear I don’t have a TV addiction, even if it sounds that way.] I thought maybe being at peace was causing me to let everything go, not just my worries. I figured by decreasing to 25mg I’d get the benefits of going off of my medicine while keeping a baseline to keep from ever falling into a hole. I know someone else who is on 25 and they seem to be doing really well on that dose, so why not me?

I think it’s been about 2 months now and I realized this past week that I need the 50. It’s probably not noticeable to the casual observer, but I find myself in my head more and evaluating my thoughts more often and checking in with my mental state. I’ve had a few intrusive thoughts/worries, like when I ran into the pharmacy to pick up my refill (ironic, I know) I left the dog in the car with the windows rolled partway down, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was going to report me to the MPs (military police) for dog neglect and sprinted back to the car after 2 minutes, relieved to find that no one cared two bits about my dog being in the car on a cold day. I think in Real Life (not Military Life), I might be OK, but with all the extra traveling, weird things that happen living overseas, and a probable move on the horizon, I need the extra boost. 

The trip this past week to Budapest has shown me how much the Zoloft is still helping me. I felt much more on edge and less relaxed then I have been on our past few family trips. I’m kind of bummed because I had been operating under the assumption that I continue to take medicine, not because I need it now, but because I don’t ever want to go back to that dark place and dig myself out of that hole again. But it turns out I’m still a nutter at heart and in my head. Flying fears popping up again. Stressful airport transfers. Getting stuck in my own brain and willing the plane to stop bouncing around in the sky through sheer force of my thoughts. It’s so 1999. It hasn’t been horrible, but it’s been work. And not enjoyable work. We were headed out this morning on an hour long flight to Munich — an hour I’ve had mastered for a while. Easy peasy. Up, get a drink from the cart, and down before I even get restless. But as we pulled away from the gate I suddenly had that overwhelming urge to run — to get up out of my seat and beg to be let off the plane. Goodness. Pass the 50! Hopefully by the end of this week I will have a bit more serotonin in my brain and will be able to make the trip home with ease, the way travel has become for me the past few years. I’ve started taking it for granted. I guess a little reality check is good for my ego and my soul.

Addendum: in hindsight, it’s a really great thing that I went back to my normal dose right before our extra-stressful, unpredictable, go with the flow trip home via Istanbul. I can’t imagine how much worse I would have felt without it. Gearing up for an eventful spring — waiting for orders, extra decisions to make about summer and our future, possibly adding another foreign country to our list of home addresses . . . 50 is where I need to be. Or even 75!