The Human Experiment

Last time I saw my doctor, a few weeks back, he told me that we would have to experiment until we find the right anti-depressant for me. He recommended putting aside the Lexapro for Wellbutrin.

For me, Lexapro, or Lexapoo as I call it, had me in a constant somber state, like a zombie who didn't need to infect. Never high and never low, just middle of the road. It did help in some ways; I didn't obsess as much, and I didn't have as many fits of rage. But, then again, I didn't feel much of anything.

Now, two weeks on Wellbutrin, I see the power of these medications. Today, was the third day that dizzy spells hit each time I turned my head. The spells are something I have never felt before. They feel like I am inside a tire, rolling down a hill. They are quick and overwhelming. They seem to end just before I feel that my legs might give.

The dizzy spells weren't all. Today, rage ruled the day. Whether it was grinning my teeth as Artie pulled on his leash during our walk, punching myself in the face and hitting the walls because the computer was freezing up, it was there, stronger than ever, and more manic than I could imagine.

I'm not sure why I told Aimee about my temper tantrums when she got home, but I did. Her response, like anyone else: "Why didn't you just take a deep breath and leave the room?"

My response: "Because I can't pull myself away. I know what I am doing but I can't stop. The thoughts are there but the action is not."

So, tomorrow comes another doctor's visit, and another thirty minutes of explaining the side effects of a new drug. It might turn out like most visits, where the dosage changes, or a new drug is prescribed. Either way, the human experiment continues.