This is a video I did cinematography for.
It's quite hysterical.
Peter (the one going insane) played "Gino" in SALC last year (wow - already a year has gone by!) and here he's brilliant and insane. It was a ruined take (somebody knocking at the door), but it's considered a classic in my book!
Enjoy!
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Another Saturday night...
God bless Hoegaarden. Because of it:
a) I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.
b) am able to type so fluidly (and thank god for the spell check option on this blog thingamajig...)
c) am able to laugh off the absurdities of what has been happening over the past few days.
E's father was diagnosed with prostate cancer a few weeks ago. He had the operation last night. All went well, but I find his family a bit odd: his wife did not go to the hospital and neither did his daughter. When my mom went in for her surgery, she had half of a football team behind her.
what's up with that?
I am losing my hair - serious hair loss. I am getting a bald spot on the back of my head. Hair thinning out all over. My body hair has stopped growing. That would be a good thing on its own (God knows I've spent a small fortune on waxing and electrolysis), but the location is all wrong. I don't know what is happening, and am terrified to hazard a guess.
I've been surfing the net. The problem lies in the fact that the amount of information available on www can be overwhelming. From Alopecia to Polycycstic ovarian syndrome, every symptom sounds like mine.
but is it?
I don't have the merit badge or alphabet soup tagged onto the end of my family name, therefore a diagnosis would only be conjecture. I fear the worst.
Surrounded by cancer, my body quakes at the presupposition of a diagnosis
or misdiagnosis...
I don't know what to do.
I treated myself to a Swedish massage today, but to my disappointment, I didn't get what I paid for, and that bugged the shit out of me.
So I sit here, a quarter past the witching hour, muscles taut, head throbbing, hair thinning, ovaries protesting, wondering when all of this mayhem will finally settle.
Oh, what to do.
Oh God help me find some answers...
a) I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.
b) am able to type so fluidly (and thank god for the spell check option on this blog thingamajig...)
c) am able to laugh off the absurdities of what has been happening over the past few days.
E's father was diagnosed with prostate cancer a few weeks ago. He had the operation last night. All went well, but I find his family a bit odd: his wife did not go to the hospital and neither did his daughter. When my mom went in for her surgery, she had half of a football team behind her.
what's up with that?
I am losing my hair - serious hair loss. I am getting a bald spot on the back of my head. Hair thinning out all over. My body hair has stopped growing. That would be a good thing on its own (God knows I've spent a small fortune on waxing and electrolysis), but the location is all wrong. I don't know what is happening, and am terrified to hazard a guess.
I've been surfing the net. The problem lies in the fact that the amount of information available on www can be overwhelming. From Alopecia to Polycycstic ovarian syndrome, every symptom sounds like mine.
but is it?
I don't have the merit badge or alphabet soup tagged onto the end of my family name, therefore a diagnosis would only be conjecture. I fear the worst.
Surrounded by cancer, my body quakes at the presupposition of a diagnosis
or misdiagnosis...
I don't know what to do.
I treated myself to a Swedish massage today, but to my disappointment, I didn't get what I paid for, and that bugged the shit out of me.
So I sit here, a quarter past the witching hour, muscles taut, head throbbing, hair thinning, ovaries protesting, wondering when all of this mayhem will finally settle.
Oh, what to do.
Oh God help me find some answers...
Sunday, October 15, 2006
"Dont blame us for her mood"
I came across this image while doing a search for PMS on Flickr.
I must say - it's images like this one that make me infuriated!
I would love nothing more than to take the ad exec who thought up this sick add, and lock him in my body during the worst 8 days of my life which happen once a month, every month, for the past 28 years of my life...
PMS has been something I have been struggling with for years, actually as long as I can remember. I was simultaneously diagnosed with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder), hypothyroidism and manic-depression after my first major breakdown at 20. I had been suffering in silence for years, not knowing what was happening to my body. To top it all off, my period was never regular, which would mean, I would PMS twice, sometimes three times a month.
Shortly after taking Prozac, my symptoms began to fade; periods became regular and those 8-15 days of hell each month shrunk down to 1-3 at most. Even those were not as bad as previous years.
Years later, the pms came back. Prozac began to lose its effect on me. I spiraled into another depression.
4 years after that, I joined a study on Effexxor and the efficacy of this drug and PMS. After establishing the right dosage, I was better again. This lasted for about 8 years. Then all hell broke loose.
Started all over again about 4 years ago. Started taking Welburtin, added some Topomax, then Neurontin, and now Lamictal. Nothing seems to work anymore, and the PMS is back again, more severe than ever. I dread the week before I bleed. There are times when I wish I could just have a hysterectomy and be done with it.
I become a monster when I pms. Not only am I volatile in mood, my whole body goes out of whack: my sense of smell becomes heightened, constant head splitting migraines, body aches so severe, I can't even stand or walk, cravings that would put a pregnant woman to shame, bloating, constipation.
But I've left out the mental disturbances...
This cornucopia of meds have already (and are) weaking havoc on my system, but PPMD throws everything into overdrive - everything to the power of 1000. I turn into a demonic shadow of my former self.
And this is with the medications that keep me from losing control...
It really rubs me the wrong way when others make fun of women who have pms. It also bothers me when other 'womanly ills" such as Post Partum Depression get more press and attention than something EVERY woman might suffer. Not every woman has a baby, but we all get our period...
Pre-menstural syndrome is still taboo. And being bi-polar in addition to that makes me feel even more like a monster than I can already be without it.
(I guess I am pmsing. The warning signs are so evident, and I try to make light of the situation, but when I'm already feeling like disappearing from the world, when taking my next breath seems like a chore, dealing with shedding part of what makes me a woman is just a lucid nightmare waiting to unfold.)
I must say - it's images like this one that make me infuriated!
I would love nothing more than to take the ad exec who thought up this sick add, and lock him in my body during the worst 8 days of my life which happen once a month, every month, for the past 28 years of my life...
PMS has been something I have been struggling with for years, actually as long as I can remember. I was simultaneously diagnosed with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder), hypothyroidism and manic-depression after my first major breakdown at 20. I had been suffering in silence for years, not knowing what was happening to my body. To top it all off, my period was never regular, which would mean, I would PMS twice, sometimes three times a month.
Shortly after taking Prozac, my symptoms began to fade; periods became regular and those 8-15 days of hell each month shrunk down to 1-3 at most. Even those were not as bad as previous years.
Years later, the pms came back. Prozac began to lose its effect on me. I spiraled into another depression.
4 years after that, I joined a study on Effexxor and the efficacy of this drug and PMS. After establishing the right dosage, I was better again. This lasted for about 8 years. Then all hell broke loose.
Started all over again about 4 years ago. Started taking Welburtin, added some Topomax, then Neurontin, and now Lamictal. Nothing seems to work anymore, and the PMS is back again, more severe than ever. I dread the week before I bleed. There are times when I wish I could just have a hysterectomy and be done with it.
I become a monster when I pms. Not only am I volatile in mood, my whole body goes out of whack: my sense of smell becomes heightened, constant head splitting migraines, body aches so severe, I can't even stand or walk, cravings that would put a pregnant woman to shame, bloating, constipation.
But I've left out the mental disturbances...
This cornucopia of meds have already (and are) weaking havoc on my system, but PPMD throws everything into overdrive - everything to the power of 1000. I turn into a demonic shadow of my former self.
And this is with the medications that keep me from losing control...
It really rubs me the wrong way when others make fun of women who have pms. It also bothers me when other 'womanly ills" such as Post Partum Depression get more press and attention than something EVERY woman might suffer. Not every woman has a baby, but we all get our period...
Pre-menstural syndrome is still taboo. And being bi-polar in addition to that makes me feel even more like a monster than I can already be without it.
(I guess I am pmsing. The warning signs are so evident, and I try to make light of the situation, but when I'm already feeling like disappearing from the world, when taking my next breath seems like a chore, dealing with shedding part of what makes me a woman is just a lucid nightmare waiting to unfold.)
Flying by on damp fall air
The remnants of summer are flying by my window as I type this.
The beautiful greenery that I once swayed nearby is now yellowed and dying. Loose skin flapping in the damp wind. Waving goodbye to summer - to the sunshine the life and warmth; the the sparse hours of humid air, delicate winds slipping through sweat and cotton.
I am in an airplane.
At the terminal, groups of trees divide into single leaves of color and various states of decomposition. Inside my body, limbic systems make a final check and then idle. Eyelids pulled down by age and sleep distort images already filtered through impenetrable pressurized glass. The haze of outside weather and liters of internal fluid - symbiotic, moving in tandem, preparing for the change of seasons.
12:35pm
Sunday October 15th, 2006
The beautiful greenery that I once swayed nearby is now yellowed and dying. Loose skin flapping in the damp wind. Waving goodbye to summer - to the sunshine the life and warmth; the the sparse hours of humid air, delicate winds slipping through sweat and cotton.
I am in an airplane.
At the terminal, groups of trees divide into single leaves of color and various states of decomposition. Inside my body, limbic systems make a final check and then idle. Eyelids pulled down by age and sleep distort images already filtered through impenetrable pressurized glass. The haze of outside weather and liters of internal fluid - symbiotic, moving in tandem, preparing for the change of seasons.
12:35pm
Sunday October 15th, 2006
p a s s e n g e r
Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars.
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars.
Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door in cars
Here in my car
You know I've started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right in cars.
This has become my hiding place.
I can hide here for days...
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars.
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars.
Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door in cars
Here in my car
You know I've started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right in cars.
This has become my hiding place.
I can hide here for days...
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Under the desk duty
I'm so tired latley - feeling a need to stop, sleep and hide all the time. Working 9 to 5 is killing me. I took a nap underneath my desk today. I had to laugh - remembering George with his little nook under his desk.
And now on a lighter note..
Jerry: (on phone) hello.
GEORGE: Jerry, I'm trapped under my desk. Steinbrenner is in the room. You got to help me.
JERRY: Who is this?
GEORGE: Jerry, . . .
Kid: Hi,
GEORGE: Sh, sh, goodbye, sh, get away.
Kid: Hi, I'm Brady.
GEORGE: ?? get away??
JERRY: Why don't you just have him paged?
GEORGE: Can't you think of something. Call in a bomb threat.
JERRY: A bomb threat? Why would I call in a bomb threat?
GEORGE: Just CALL!
JERRY: I should have some reason.
STEINBRENNER: Hey you kids know tunes; see if this song rings a bell, "Heartbreaker , . . . "
Woman: Mr. Steinbrenner we just received a call. There's a bomb in the building.
STEINBRENNER: A bomb in the building, oh, m'god. Quick, everyone under the desk
STEINBRENNER: Boy can you think of what went through my mind when I saw there wasn't going to be enough room under that desk for me and my babies.
GEORGE: I'm sorry sir.
STEINBRENNER: You know what I think? I think you knew about that bomb ahead of time.
GEORGE: What?
STEINBRENNER: ???? about that bomb. You climbed under that desk because you have ESP. George, what's on my mind? . . . Meatballs! Huh? Unbelievable. Anyway this terrorist had a specific demand. Not more cheap adjustable hats on hat day. He wants fitted hats just like the players wear.
God bless the creators and actors of Sienfeld...
And now on a lighter note..
Jerry: (on phone) hello.
GEORGE: Jerry, I'm trapped under my desk. Steinbrenner is in the room. You got to help me.
JERRY: Who is this?
GEORGE: Jerry, . . .
Kid: Hi,
GEORGE: Sh, sh, goodbye, sh, get away.
Kid: Hi, I'm Brady.
GEORGE: ?? get away??
JERRY: Why don't you just have him paged?
GEORGE: Can't you think of something. Call in a bomb threat.
JERRY: A bomb threat? Why would I call in a bomb threat?
GEORGE: Just CALL!
JERRY: I should have some reason.
STEINBRENNER: Hey you kids know tunes; see if this song rings a bell, "Heartbreaker , . . . "
Woman: Mr. Steinbrenner we just received a call. There's a bomb in the building.
STEINBRENNER: A bomb in the building, oh, m'god. Quick, everyone under the desk
STEINBRENNER: Boy can you think of what went through my mind when I saw there wasn't going to be enough room under that desk for me and my babies.
GEORGE: I'm sorry sir.
STEINBRENNER: You know what I think? I think you knew about that bomb ahead of time.
GEORGE: What?
STEINBRENNER: ???? about that bomb. You climbed under that desk because you have ESP. George, what's on my mind? . . . Meatballs! Huh? Unbelievable. Anyway this terrorist had a specific demand. Not more cheap adjustable hats on hat day. He wants fitted hats just like the players wear.
God bless the creators and actors of Sienfeld...
cancer of the mind - a letter to a friend
This was a letter I wrote to a friend. Too tired to comment...
Withdrawl symptoms are hard. I'm trying to go down gradually - 35 mg per two weeks, but I can feel it already - the nausea, the headaches, the achey flu like symptoms, but the worst is the fading hope, the dark cloud that keeps on getting bigger and bigger.
I equate it to a mental cancer - this depression eats away at my view on life, tainting it, making it ill, corroded, ugly and deadly. Each day is a struggle to keep afloat. Fucken medication.
I'm trying accupuncture - I have nothing left to lose at this point. I'm trying to go every week. The menu of meds I take every morning make me feel like a walking department store of pills and I wonder if I ever went off of them, would my body ever be able to function properly.
I look at my mother and she's one of the reasons I'm still alive. Without her to be my inspiration, I don't know where I'd be now. If she can go through cancer and chemo, I can go through this. The thing is, like I said before, this is a cancer of the mind which affects the body which effects the morale, which effects my existance. It's more complicated than I thought it would be.
Withdrawl symptoms are hard. I'm trying to go down gradually - 35 mg per two weeks, but I can feel it already - the nausea, the headaches, the achey flu like symptoms, but the worst is the fading hope, the dark cloud that keeps on getting bigger and bigger.
I equate it to a mental cancer - this depression eats away at my view on life, tainting it, making it ill, corroded, ugly and deadly. Each day is a struggle to keep afloat. Fucken medication.
I'm trying accupuncture - I have nothing left to lose at this point. I'm trying to go every week. The menu of meds I take every morning make me feel like a walking department store of pills and I wonder if I ever went off of them, would my body ever be able to function properly.
I look at my mother and she's one of the reasons I'm still alive. Without her to be my inspiration, I don't know where I'd be now. If she can go through cancer and chemo, I can go through this. The thing is, like I said before, this is a cancer of the mind which affects the body which effects the morale, which effects my existance. It's more complicated than I thought it would be.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Have I mentioned that almost every night, I dream of plane crashes and air raids? Metal birds in the sky colliding - exploding, falling
people terrified, helpless
screaming, horrified
fighter planes with their engines on fire
chasing renegade bombs before they hit the ground
I dreamt that I was looking outside my bedroom window and a huge jumbo jet engine roared by, nearly missing the house. The turbine was so close, I could almost touch it.
The smell of hot jet fuel almost melted my lungs.
what's next?
I cried over and over again.
when will this nightmare end?
Dreamt that a friend had become a crack whore - left her darling husband, 3 beautiful boys and took to the streets.
One night at a party, she was brutally beaten and died from her injuries. People stood around and watched. She screamed for help. Nobody cared. Everybody got too scared to become involved.
I heard about what had happened seconds after it began. Terrified, not looking behind me, I ran into the house.
terrified and feeling guilty
for feeling terrified
I acted surprised when the news broke that she died; but secretly wondered if my effort could have made a difference or would my body become a battered mess, brought down into the moment from the momentum of growing anger.
I was alive and she was dead.
survivor's guilt
Dreamer's despair
I try to keep awake as long as my body can endure
I don't wasn't to sleep and wake up terrified again...
people terrified, helpless
screaming, horrified
fighter planes with their engines on fire
chasing renegade bombs before they hit the ground
I dreamt that I was looking outside my bedroom window and a huge jumbo jet engine roared by, nearly missing the house. The turbine was so close, I could almost touch it.
The smell of hot jet fuel almost melted my lungs.
what's next?
I cried over and over again.
when will this nightmare end?
Dreamt that a friend had become a crack whore - left her darling husband, 3 beautiful boys and took to the streets.
One night at a party, she was brutally beaten and died from her injuries. People stood around and watched. She screamed for help. Nobody cared. Everybody got too scared to become involved.
I heard about what had happened seconds after it began. Terrified, not looking behind me, I ran into the house.
terrified and feeling guilty
for feeling terrified
I acted surprised when the news broke that she died; but secretly wondered if my effort could have made a difference or would my body become a battered mess, brought down into the moment from the momentum of growing anger.
I was alive and she was dead.
survivor's guilt
Dreamer's despair
I try to keep awake as long as my body can endure
I don't wasn't to sleep and wake up terrified again...
Letter to a friend - Tuesday night - 10:20pm
Girl,
You're the only one I can talk to, so please forgive me if I begin to be my dark self.
It's getting more difficult, every day.
going off the meds is something I'm getting 2nd thoughts about.
Each day gets a little less sunny, a little less full, a little darker, heavier.
My laugh lines around my mouth are getting deeper. I find that to be a completly cruel joke as I'm doing anything but smiling or laughing lately.
A smile upside-down.
My stomach is expanding - combination of bloating and blockage.
I look like I am 4 months pregnant - another irony.
Empty womb - empty space. I lack any kind of glow.
I am beginning to hate my body.
No, loathe is a better word.
Loathe all that is inside of me, all that I've lost over the years, and all the extra weight, skin, years that wait for me to stop running and finally stand still.
Empty
empty
I can't even carry myself
empty
empty
I got news from the dude in NYC - he got his big break. CEO of a new company. He's starting at 85 000. He's going to pick up his company car on Friday. A Mercedes. He's leaving to go to Peru Tuesday for two weeks, then off to Vegas and California - 2 weeks each in November
For business.
He was at the 2007 show last week. Another high profile event the week before.
I could not be happier for him.
He really honest to God deserves it.
I told him to remember me when he's rich and famous...
We both laughed
but I died a little inside.
I am so close to giving it all up - all the dreams and visions of a wonderful life. I've waited, and waiting now is too painful. I feel as if I must resign to a mundane quiet boring existence in order to keep myself alive. I can't reach for the stars anymore. I feel as if I have to let go of all those dreams because reality is here - slapping me in the face, kicking me in the head.
And it hurts so much. The man says he understands, but I know his dreams died a long time ago. I have an extra 20 years of hope I have to work off. It's not easy to let go of those things - the older you get, the stronger they become your lifeline - reason to live.
For you, it was to have a family, finish your film.
For me?
My dreams have become a trivial antidote to a sad and crumbling existence. And what I'm holding on to, as my body begins to withdraw and brain spirals into a free fall, I wonder how long I can last.
Those scars from my breakdown are becoming irritated again - as if to remind me, perhaps you'll be more successful this time, that slipping away won't be as painful, but will seem more like a kinder gentler option.
I am starting to crumble, and I have never felt so alone in decades. And it's freaking the fuck out of me.
I don't know what to do,
or
if I should do anything anymore...
You're the only one I can talk to, so please forgive me if I begin to be my dark self.
It's getting more difficult, every day.
going off the meds is something I'm getting 2nd thoughts about.
Each day gets a little less sunny, a little less full, a little darker, heavier.
My laugh lines around my mouth are getting deeper. I find that to be a completly cruel joke as I'm doing anything but smiling or laughing lately.
A smile upside-down.
My stomach is expanding - combination of bloating and blockage.
I look like I am 4 months pregnant - another irony.
Empty womb - empty space. I lack any kind of glow.
I am beginning to hate my body.
No, loathe is a better word.
Loathe all that is inside of me, all that I've lost over the years, and all the extra weight, skin, years that wait for me to stop running and finally stand still.
Empty
empty
I can't even carry myself
empty
empty
I got news from the dude in NYC - he got his big break. CEO of a new company. He's starting at 85 000. He's going to pick up his company car on Friday. A Mercedes. He's leaving to go to Peru Tuesday for two weeks, then off to Vegas and California - 2 weeks each in November
For business.
He was at the 2007 show last week. Another high profile event the week before.
I could not be happier for him.
He really honest to God deserves it.
I told him to remember me when he's rich and famous...
We both laughed
but I died a little inside.
I am so close to giving it all up - all the dreams and visions of a wonderful life. I've waited, and waiting now is too painful. I feel as if I must resign to a mundane quiet boring existence in order to keep myself alive. I can't reach for the stars anymore. I feel as if I have to let go of all those dreams because reality is here - slapping me in the face, kicking me in the head.
And it hurts so much. The man says he understands, but I know his dreams died a long time ago. I have an extra 20 years of hope I have to work off. It's not easy to let go of those things - the older you get, the stronger they become your lifeline - reason to live.
For you, it was to have a family, finish your film.
For me?
My dreams have become a trivial antidote to a sad and crumbling existence. And what I'm holding on to, as my body begins to withdraw and brain spirals into a free fall, I wonder how long I can last.
Those scars from my breakdown are becoming irritated again - as if to remind me, perhaps you'll be more successful this time, that slipping away won't be as painful, but will seem more like a kinder gentler option.
I am starting to crumble, and I have never felt so alone in decades. And it's freaking the fuck out of me.
I don't know what to do,
or
if I should do anything anymore...
Saturday, October 07, 2006
letter to a friend - Saturday night - October 7th, 2006
Ciao bella.
How are you doing?How is baby and pappy?
Did you get the cd? Likey da pictures? You must be swamped with people wanting to see baby, your parents coming from out of town, man's best friend conducting a pagan ceremony by the glow of the full moon.
I hope you are keeping rested.
I'm struggling.
Lots of struggling.
Working 9 to 5 in a really "officized" acedemic job is taking its toll on me. It's wearing away at my spirit and creativity.
I mourn the loss of my joy for photography and life in general.
My health is worsening. I've been blocked up for so long now. Tried everything. Going through withdrawal of the effexor, while going on two new meds for my IBS (stomach/bowel problems).
I hate this: one med traded in for another.
Fuck.
But I keep it inside, trying to stay afloat, looking at my mother and marvelling at her beauty, how strong she has become, and wonder if I would be as courageous as she if the tables were turned.
Going with E's parents 2mrw, then my mom's on Monday.
I sleep lots in between.
Every motion of a shutting eyelid brings dreams of plane crashes and dead people everywhere.
Terrifying dreams.
How are you doing?How is baby and pappy?
Did you get the cd? Likey da pictures? You must be swamped with people wanting to see baby, your parents coming from out of town, man's best friend conducting a pagan ceremony by the glow of the full moon.
I hope you are keeping rested.
I'm struggling.
Lots of struggling.
Working 9 to 5 in a really "officized" acedemic job is taking its toll on me. It's wearing away at my spirit and creativity.
I mourn the loss of my joy for photography and life in general.
My health is worsening. I've been blocked up for so long now. Tried everything. Going through withdrawal of the effexor, while going on two new meds for my IBS (stomach/bowel problems).
I hate this: one med traded in for another.
Fuck.
But I keep it inside, trying to stay afloat, looking at my mother and marvelling at her beauty, how strong she has become, and wonder if I would be as courageous as she if the tables were turned.
Going with E's parents 2mrw, then my mom's on Monday.
I sleep lots in between.
Every motion of a shutting eyelid brings dreams of plane crashes and dead people everywhere.
Terrifying dreams.
I watch myself watching jumbo jet engines passing within a hair of my bedroom window, and ask myself:
'what will be next?"
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
Not a very good Monday...
I got back from the doctor not long ago.
He is really not happy about taking me off the effexor to try the prozac again. I spent about 20 minutes with him, trying to explain that what i'm feeling is not 'normal' and life in a shade/haze of greys is not "living"
"well, maybe, have you thought that perhaps, this is the way most people feel most of the time? That this might be their 'normal' ?"
I almost wrung his neck.
- "does your life consist of shades of grey - formless forms, bland and banal moments of existence?"
he paused without saying a word.
made that bastard think
"well, for me doc - this ain't living - not even existing. I'm a body living in a shell of a former me. I'm not even living, just there..."
he wil be taking me off the effexor - by the end of the month I'll be off.
I'm going to have horrible side effects - he warned me, and I know them all too well. It's not going to be pretty.
The shocks that run from the top of my head to the back of my brain - slicing a neuro bolt through my brain, the night sweats, tremors, nausea, hallunications, ringing in the ears, the fear, the paranoia.
According to Wyeth-Ayerst, the manufacturer of effexor and effexor xr, 35% of the Effexor patients experienced withdrawal symptoms ranging from a flu-like syndrome to insomnia, nausea, nervousness, and loss of energy.
Also, from the FDA medical products reporting program, the list of withdrawal symptoms from effexor include:
agitation, anorexia, anxiety, confusion, coordination impaired, diarrhea, dizziness, dry mouth, dysphoric mood, fasciculation, fatigue, headaches, hypomania, insomnia, nausea, nervousness, nightmares, sensory disturbances (including shock-like electrical sensations), somnolence, sweating, tremor, vertigo, and vomiting.
One more common effect not mentioned above is long term vision
I don't know how this is going to play out. I know what happened before med/mood wise - I know exactly what my body will do - but now accelerated. I am pretty worried.
This might be the crash and burn I was worried about.
But I have to do something.
Something is better than nothing - why stay on medication that has stopped working for me?
But then again, at what cost the change?
I am going to see the acupuncture guy - hope that his magic pins and needles will help. But I might have to take time off work -
might...
I know - 'take it when it comes.. deal with it when it happens" but I've been through this so many times before, I can't help but try to be prepared for what I know that 98% of what I forsee will happen will actually happen...
Oh boy.
That's not to mention the Abdominal ct scan that I'll need. Back to my gastroentorologist about my stomach and intestinal problems, the special blood tests/fasting for all those special things my GP is testing for, including cervical cancer...
oh boy.
Not a fun day for a monday...
He is really not happy about taking me off the effexor to try the prozac again. I spent about 20 minutes with him, trying to explain that what i'm feeling is not 'normal' and life in a shade/haze of greys is not "living"
"well, maybe, have you thought that perhaps, this is the way most people feel most of the time? That this might be their 'normal' ?"
I almost wrung his neck.
- "does your life consist of shades of grey - formless forms, bland and banal moments of existence?"
he paused without saying a word.
made that bastard think
"well, for me doc - this ain't living - not even existing. I'm a body living in a shell of a former me. I'm not even living, just there..."
he wil be taking me off the effexor - by the end of the month I'll be off.
I'm going to have horrible side effects - he warned me, and I know them all too well. It's not going to be pretty.
The shocks that run from the top of my head to the back of my brain - slicing a neuro bolt through my brain, the night sweats, tremors, nausea, hallunications, ringing in the ears, the fear, the paranoia.
According to Wyeth-Ayerst, the manufacturer of effexor and effexor xr, 35% of the Effexor patients experienced withdrawal symptoms ranging from a flu-like syndrome to insomnia, nausea, nervousness, and loss of energy.
Also, from the FDA medical products reporting program, the list of withdrawal symptoms from effexor include:
agitation, anorexia, anxiety, confusion, coordination impaired, diarrhea, dizziness, dry mouth, dysphoric mood, fasciculation, fatigue, headaches, hypomania, insomnia, nausea, nervousness, nightmares, sensory disturbances (including shock-like electrical sensations), somnolence, sweating, tremor, vertigo, and vomiting.
One more common effect not mentioned above is long term vision
I don't know how this is going to play out. I know what happened before med/mood wise - I know exactly what my body will do - but now accelerated. I am pretty worried.
This might be the crash and burn I was worried about.
But I have to do something.
Something is better than nothing - why stay on medication that has stopped working for me?
But then again, at what cost the change?
I am going to see the acupuncture guy - hope that his magic pins and needles will help. But I might have to take time off work -
might...
I know - 'take it when it comes.. deal with it when it happens" but I've been through this so many times before, I can't help but try to be prepared for what I know that 98% of what I forsee will happen will actually happen...
Oh boy.
That's not to mention the Abdominal ct scan that I'll need. Back to my gastroentorologist about my stomach and intestinal problems, the special blood tests/fasting for all those special things my GP is testing for, including cervical cancer...
oh boy.
Not a fun day for a monday...
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