Wednesday, August 15, 2012 – Dealing with Addiction
I debated with myself for quite awhile before deciding to go
ahead with that title. Addicition
is a serious topic, and I hadn’t anticipated writing about it when I started
blogging. I was fortunate in that
I never had a problem with alcohol or street drugs. My familiarity with addiction was based exclusively on
hearing the stories of others – or so I thought.
I’d better start at the beginning. It all began several years ago, in March of 2007, to be
exact. Part way through a
nightmarish school year (nightmarish for several reasons, most of them related
to changes in the administration at AHS), I found myself exhibiting signs of
clinical depression, a diagnosis I made with the help of my brother, a
psychiatrist. He recommended an
anti-depressant. I was willing to
try just about anything to help me get through this difficult period, so I
started taking a daily dose of Effexor XR.
The good news is that those pills really worked. No matter how crazy things got at
school, I felt like I could cope.
Since I felt fine on the medication, I continued taking it although,
over the years, I suspected that I had become psychologically dependent on the drug. The bad news is that I never
considered the possibility that I might develop a chemical dependency, i.e. a
true addiction.
Fast forward to early 2012 when I became a new retiree. My life, while not stress-free, seemed
manageable. I hadn’t felt any
twinges of depression in months or years.
So I thought to myself, this would be a good time to give up those
little pills. And the summer,
after the excitement of Elliott’s big birthday celebration had died down, would
be the ideal time to quit. My
brother and my family doctor concurred. They drew out a plan for reducing the
dosage gradually over the course of a month. I marked the dates on my calendar, not anticipating any
difficulties. The withdrawal
process got underway in mid-July.
Last Saturday, August 11, I swallowed my last “happy pill” and
congratulated myself on making a successful transition to anti-depressant-free
living.
My euphoria didn’t last long. Within 48 hours, I started experiencing some disturbing
symptoms. Most alarming was the
feeling of lightheadedness that persisted throughout the day on Monday. Since it intensified with motion, I
found myself trying to minimize all movements. Driving became problematic, particularly when I had to turn
my head. Soon after the
lightheadedness appeared, I noticed other symptoms: inexplicable muscle aches and pains, crazy dreams, anxiety,
insomnia, and just a vague sense of malaise. However, since I wasn’t depressed, I never thought these
symptoms might be related to the withdrawal from my anti-depressant.
You may remember that I blogged about how I stayed up very
late last Friday night with an unfamiliar hyperactive feeling. That was minor compared to Monday night
when I couldn’t fall asleep at all.
Everything seemed to worry me, and I finally got out of bed (for good)
at 2:15 a.m. Elliott was awake at
the time (stomachache, back pain, etc.), and I told him I was tempted to order
a pizza. Yes, I was ravenously
hungry. But instead of giving in
to my craving, I read a library book (Pax Ethnica),
cleaned up some papers on my desk, and looked at maps of San Francisco on the
computer. After an hour, I wasn’t
even starting to feel sleepy and I couldn’t ignore my hunger anymore. I had a bowl of Cheerios and felt ready
to start the day’s work. Shortly
before 6, I went out in the pouring rain to pick up the newspaper from the
driveway. I put a big pot of red
lentils on the stove to cook with ginger, garlic, and exotic spices. By the time Elliott awoke around 7, the
house smelled like an Indian restaurant.
I still wasn’t tired, but I was totally baffled. I’d have to call the doctor as soon as
the office opened.
In the meantime, after downing a second (or third?)
breakfast, I sat down at the computer and googled Effexor XR withdrawal
symptoms. And there it was, a list
of all the complaints that had been plaguing me. I felt a sense of shock, quickly followed by relief that the
mystery was solved. I wasn’t
suffering from a dread disease after all.
Rather, I’d become addicted to the Effexor and was having a pretty
normal case of withdrawal. And the
symptoms, while certainly distressing, would be temporary.
Fortunately, I made this discovery just prior to my lunch
date with Elliott on Tuesday. It’s
DC Restaurant Week, and we’re doing our best to support the local economy. The restaurant we chose, 2941, is
not far from home but seems worlds away.
Tucked into a park-like setting, 2941 qualifies as a “special occasion”
destination. We’ve celebrated
several birthdays and anniversaries here.
A perfect mingling of modernity and elegance, the restaurant features an
imaginative menu using ingredients of the highest quality.
Both of us started with the salad of heirloom tomatoes,
tomato gelée, creamy burrata cheese and grilled red onion in a perfectly
balanced vinaigrette. For the
second course, Elliott ordered the pork loin with peaches on a bed of polenta
with arugula. My choice was a
seafood risotto with cod confit (salt cod) and delicate rings of tiny
squid. The desserts were
amazing: chocolate napoleon (a
flourless creation) accompanied by housemade blueberry sorbet; and a
deconstructed peach “cheesecake” enhanced by flavors of maple and pecans. A pair of complimentary citrus-glazed beignets
arrived with the check. All in
all, it was a scrumptious and totally satisfying meal.
After lunch, I had enough energy to work with Elliott in our
downstairs studio. We’re exploring
ideas and making sketches for a new series of paintings, which I’m tentatively
calling The Why Question. You’ll understand why when you see
them. Elliott’s vision still
hasn’t cleared up completely, but he is healing well. On Monday, the surgeon assured him that the blurriness was
due to the antibiotic ointment he has to continue using in his eyes for another
week or so. The remaining stitches
will be removed on the 28th of August, just in time for the Labor
Day weekend festivities (a couple of parties).
The lightheadedness had subsided further by Wednesday morning,
enough for me to venture outside for a mini-trek through the woods. Decked out in my trail clothes and
wearing fashionable yellow stretchy anti-mosquito coils on both wrists, I
headed into the forest for twenty minutes or so of mindful walking. I was grateful that my withdrawal was
going well, and the experience has given me a newfound appreciation for the
struggles of those working to overcome addiction to any substance.
One day at a time, one step at a time, I thought as I made
my way through the woods, past the plentiful reminders of the extreme storms
that have torn through our area over the past couple of months. Massive trunks and limbs littered the
forest floor, and tall trees leaned precariously overhead. I made it home safely, and noticed some
storm-related damage right in our front yard: the wooden house number sign, split in half and left
dangling. Hmmm, could this be a
not-so-subtle hint that we should consider relocating?
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