Citalopram (Celexa).

Citalopram is the generic form of Celexa that I have been on for nine weeks now.  For those of you just joining us, I have battled anxiety/panic disorder my entire life, and have sunk into depression several times throughout my life as well.  It was a big step for me to go on meds, but I had the encouragement and support of my amazing family and friends.  From my research and my doctor’s informing me, 8-10 weeks is when I will feel the full effect of the drug.  All I can say is: WHAT A MIRACLE.

Disclaimer:  This is my personal experience.  Your mileage may vary.  Be sure to talk to your doctor before you rush into taking any medication, do your research no matter how difficult it may be and/or how shitty you feel, and find support.  No matter how lonely you may feel, you are not alone.

When I first started taking the Citalopram (I’ll abbreviate this “Cit” from now on), I experiences side effects including loss of energy (bearable in comparison to the loss of energy the depression brought on, which was positively debilitating and frustrating), rapid heartbeat, dry mouth, yawning, odd sleep patterns and loss of appetite.  The loss of energy was gone in less than 2 weeks, and the others subsided within 4 weeks.  I also experienced nausea, but that was gone in less than a week as my body adjusted to the drug.  None of these side effects were fun; I had to remind myself that the inconvenience of these side effects would be worth it, and I knew that my doctor and I had carefully and thoroughly discussed my options and we agreed that the potential benefits would outweigh the side effects.

Another concern I had was going off the Cit.  I have read horror stories of people suffering the effects of SSRI withdrawal.  My doctor assured me that my dose was low enough that my body would adjust.  I don’t plan on going off of it anytime soon, and here is why:

I HAVE MY LIFE BACK!

It is amazing to be able to hop in the car and drive without anxiety.  I can go to Stop & Shop or Target without becoming overwhelmed by the lights and people and “stuff” being everywhere.  The little things that people take for granted are huge triumphs for me, and I thank God for His anointing on this medication; I truly believe that without it, the Cit would not be working this well.

My depression has lifted.  Of course, I still have some days where I feel down, but I’m not living in the constant state of darkness that used to fill my every day.  The Cit has not numbed me at all; I am glad for this.  I still want to be able to “feel” things, both good and bad.  To feel is to be human; if “I think, therefore I am” proves our existance, I say our ability to experience feelings proves we are truly alive.

The compulsiveness within me has also lessened.  I am no longer obsessed with food, death, and buying things to make me feel better.  My thoughts do not race.  In times of great stress, I am able to breathe and think things through.

I used to count my blessings in an attempt to pull myself out of the feeling of drowning that depression often brings.  It didn’t work; it made me feel worse that I wasn’t able to appreciate them.  The Cit has made me capable of not only appreciating, but embracing my blessings.  I thank God for my husband, my children, my family, my friends, my pets, and my job…and best of all, I am feeling love more powerfully than ever!

I still have some side effects from time to time, but they are fleeting (a few days max) and bearable.  For example, around PMS time, my mouth has gone the opposite direction of dry mouth!  I have also had vivid and strange dreams, some very freaky, certainly interesting conversation starters!  At no time did I experience any sexual side effects (thank God again) and my periods have changed for the better; I used to have a full 7 days (day 1 being heavy, 2-3 being very heavy, 4-6 being medium and 7 being light),  now we’re down to a lovely 5 with only the second and third day being very heavy and the rest being medium to light.  Very cool.

Depression is something that so many people suffer with.  Many people resist taking antidepressants because for many years there was a stigma attached to them.  Maybe they feel that their faith in God isn’t strong if they succumb to depression, and taking meds is an aknowledgment of defeat.  Perhaps they have heard the mocking voices of friends, colleagues, or relatives who refer to antidepressants as “happy pills.”  Many of these people do not know the pain that depression brings; making light of anything that can help is downright rude.  God has blessed us with incredibly gifted medical and mental health professionals as well as medical technology to help us; if anything, my faith has increased as I have been witness to His anointing of this medication for my life!  As far as stigma, pardon my French, but FUCK IT.  I don’t care what people outside of those who I love and whose opinions I respect think.  In the words of my gorgeous OA sponsor,”Antidepressants level the playing field for those who are low” sums it up nicely.

Once again, this is my experience.  I am overjoyed, elated, and feeling normal and human again.  I truly see this as a miracle, and it is a miracle that I wish for every person who battles depression.

The title of this blog is from a song entitled “Help Me” by Alkaline Trio.  In my experience, much of life means throwing yourself into things with blind faith or being thrown into them against your will, but still being required to deal with the consequences.  My farewell kiss to go into the unknown meant saying goodbye to my resistance to take medication, trusting God to guide me into the unknown of how my life would be different without depression and anxiety. 

I do not regret this farewell kiss at all.

Couch.

Still recovering and discovering how comfy my couch is.  Today I was a bit bored, so I started reading “An Inconvenient Book” by the great Glenn Beck.  Call him alarmist, apocalyptic, dramatic…I love his radio and Fox News shows.  He is funny, informative, and I have yet to disagree with anything I have heard him say.  So far, this book (a Valentine’s Day gift from my rockin’ husband) is fabulous.

Here is my “Stuck on the Couch Survival Kit” for those of you keeping score at home:

Tissues, remote, phone, antibiotics, ginger ale, CeraVe Lotion, Paula’s Choice Lip & Body Treatment Balm, Rise Above Plastic Sigg water bottle (filled), reading glasses and laptop (the pink thingy sticking out near the Sigg).

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Oprah.

I really wish Oprah would shut up about being fat.

I had hoped she was done whoring out her weight issues with her January issue of O magazine, where she had a picture of herself 40 pounds lighter with a picture of herself at her current weight of…*INSERT SHOCKED GASP HERE*…over 200 pounds!

OH THE HORROR!!  200 pounds?!!  Surely that negates everything that Oprah has accomplished!  No doubt that takes away from the number of people who love her!  Shall I weep into my pillow tonight for poor, fat Oprah?

No.

Before I continue, I should say that I consider myself to be a former fan of Oprah.  I used to watch her show pretty much daily and subscribed to her magazine from the very first issue (which, by the way, initially kicked ass and went downhill after about a year).  There is much to admire about this woman who came up from nothing and created an empire with herself as the main commodity.  She took the cheesy talk show genre and brought in some class, seemingly practicing what she preached in real life as she gave much of her hard-earned money to various causes, even starting her own Angel Network and building a school for girls in Africa.  Somewhere along the line, I started to find the Oprah Worship of her fans to be annoying.  It appeared that Oprah herself was basking in it.  The whole scene was pretentious…and ridiculous. 

Fast forward to today, when my latest issue (March 2009) of O magazine arrived.  I should mention here that I have cancelled my subscription, which will cease to exist after next month’s issue.  On the cover, we see Oprah (who is always on the cover, in case you didn’t know) looking footloose and fancy free in a breezy yellow top and long, flowing floral skirt.  She looks gorgeous.  We have all seen the tabloid pics of her without makeup and we all acknowledge that her hair and makeup guys are amazing; nonetheless, she looks fantastic on the cover.  Each and every issue has a “theme;” this month’s is “Who You Can TRUST.”  Hmmm…I’m not sure I want Oprah or her little friends telling me who I can trust, though admittedly I am a fan of Dr. Phil and Suze Orman, who write for the magazine.

But it wasn’t the topic that caught my eye; it was the headline below it:

“BIG, FAT SURPRISE: How your weight really affects your health.”

At first I rolled my eyes, grumbling “here she goes, attention whoring about her weight again.”  But then I thought about it, and I asked myself, how does my weight really affect my health?

The answer came quickly.  The bottom line is, by all accounts, I “need” to lose exactly 70 pounds to be at a healthy Body Mass Index.  This puts me in the obese category.  Aside from what my weight might do if I stay this fat, which as we all know by now puts me at risk for all kinds of nasty diseases and potential disasters, at the moment I am, praise God, incredibly healthy. 

My weight affects my health in one way: It kills my self-esteem.  In turn, my mental and emotional health are affected.  I probably do more damage to myself as I beat the shit out of my looks for being overweight.  In truth, as I have written before, I have an eating disorder (and incidentally, Oprah graces us with an article about it in this magazine; sadly, the guidelines for recovery therin SUCK).  I know whyI am fat.  I know how I got fat.  I even know how to de-fat myself.  But I also know that de-fatting myself isn’t going to cure me of the way I feel when I look in the mirror.

(WARNING: TMI about to follow.  Stop reading here if you can’t handle it.)

This past week, I developed a large and extremely painful subaceous cyst on my outer pubic region.  The pain was excrusiating; I could not walk, was popping ibuprofen like candy and it still wasn’t enough, and even lying down brought no relief.  When you have a giant cyst in an area affected by gravity, it sucks for you.  Bill stayed home and took me to the doctor yesterday, who helped a great deal by extracting as much of it as she could, but of course that doesn’t make it go away.  I’m on high dose antibiotics and she gave me a once-a-day kickass painkillder that works without hurling me down the A&E Intervention show superhighway. 

I am sharing this because my fat played a big part in this cyst.  First of all, I am so fat I needed a mirror to look at the cyst.  The added fat in my stomach put more pressure on the area than I could stand.  It was a true inconvenience.  I am no longer embarassed about being fat, but I am motivated to get to a healthy weight, because it is a health issue and it would have been a lot easier to deal with this cyst if I didn’t have this extra weight on me.

While Oprah is whining about her fat, screaming “Look at me, I’m so embarrassed, look at me, I have to tell you why I am fat so you still accept me and love me,” I am telling you that there is another side, where being fat sucks and is unhealthy, but does not make a person unworthy of love and acceptance.  It does not make me less of a person.  Our society discriminates against fat people, who seem to think that they deserve to be discriminated against.

I have been thin, though I didn’t know it because I was always told I was fat.  I have mentioned before that I lost a great deal of weight (for the second time) after my son was born; psychologically, I was still fat.  Now I am obese.  I have lived nearly the full spectrum, save morbid obesity, but I can see how easy it is to get there, too.

I will close with a quick note to Oprah:

Dear Oprah,

I am just over 200 pounds myself.  At 5′ 1-1/2″, this is a lot of weight for my little body to be carrying around.  I weigh more than my husband, more than both of my children combined, and more than most people my height.  I do not feel the need to excuse or explain my fat; I have suffered from Binge Eating Disorder since I was 8 years old.  Oprah, you have so much.  People envy your money, your homes, your ability to give generously.  You say you like something and people go out and buy it.  I encourage you to learn to accept and love yourself, whether you are 200 or 400 pounds, because if you say it, people will listen.  My theory is this: if people see that loving themselves just the way they are can lead to taking better care of themselves, more people can and will get to a healthy weight than if they are told constantly that they are fat and being fat is bad.  200 pounds is just a number; it is not who you or I are.  I am determined to get to a healthy weight for my future health; I am healthy now and I want to stay that way.  Aside from this, I try to kick ass daily and be a better person than I was the day before.  Please reconsider your public stance on fat; it just may help you in the long run, too.

Love,

Trish