Sorry, I know this is far from the first moan about my increased dosage I've uttered.
It is a bit weird what a difference just an extra 10mg can make. I've not been able to eat much at all, and have taken wise Rhian's advice to get those meal replacement shakes so that even if I don't feel like eating, I get a FEW calories. I've been trying to convince various trolleagues to go for lunch over this weekend but it's not worked out, partly because by the time the sanity snackage kicks in at about noon, I don't feel like eating at all. I'm quite a bit dopier than usual and have been sleeping very deeply, with very vivid dreams. I dreamt in German for the first time in ages the other day, and last night my brain dreamt that I had been promoted after all, which is a bit cruel of my brain to do.
Don't get me wrong, I'm sticking it out, and I know things weren't pleasant side-effect-wise when I first went on them last year either. I think back then, though, I was in such a state that I felt that things could only improve, whereas here (and I know how I feel may have no bearing on what's actually the case), I feel like it's cancelling out progress I've made. There's funny side-effects too, like when I did the cleaning yesterday, moved a wine bottle and a massive spider crawled out from behind it and I felt no emotion whatsoever, not even surprise. But more worryingly (if I could even feel worried at the moment), I can't really feel things better than a 6 (or worse than a 3) on an emotional scale out of 10. Normally if I had a free weekend I'd go and garden or watch programmes about Vikings or do something else I enjoy, but I just feel a bit too flat to do much. I'm a bit lonely to be honest. If I had the money and if it was a bit closer, I'd have liked to have gone home this weekend too.
That got a bit bleak a bit quickly. SORRY. I have to make a follow-up appointment in a couple of weeks so HOPEFULLY by then, I can convince them to put me back down to 20mg. And a happy result is that I'm no longer worried about work as a whole. The generalised sense of dread is gone and has sharpened into two very specific fears: one that I'll faint again, because a fourth time would somehow cross a line, and one that I'm totally inadequate for the job. But I'm working on the second one.
I've been doing things other than obsessing over how mad I am, though. I have been thinking about plaiting my hair and adding BEADS, hopefully to produce a Viking rather than Rastafarian result. Also I've been reading a lot of Dylan Thomas poetry, which isn't the most cheerful but OMG it is good (and poetry's totes not meant to be cheerful). And I've been trolling through property websites, as is my custom. I'm not especially desperate to move, especially as it'd be faffy to move all my various plants (and other possessions but they are not too important), but you do occasionally get good deals in the vicinity, and maybe one day I shall live in a house with a SPARE ROOM so that I can convince my family to stay over and nurse me whenever I fall off the sanity wagon.