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Unless I end up in the news for a killing spree or something, this will probably be the last update in this category. It's been a little over two weeks now that I've been off the Zoloft, but it's hard to say exactly what the impact has been.

The first week was no problem at all - felt like my usual happy, go lucky self - skipping through fields, tra-la-la, business as usual. Well, okay, that isn't strictly speaking true, but really it was not so bad - I felt "normal".

The second week has been more of a challenge, but then again, I'm not sure how much of it can be attributed directly to getting off the Zoloft. There have been a couple of other things going on that are probably complicating my experiment. I've totally-absolutely-no-sneaking-any-when-I-am-not-looking-it's-not-okay-if-I-just-have-one-every-other-day stopped smoking. This of course has me in a state of near constant longing, which, given my wiring, is pretty easy to misinterpret and get cross-wired with other longings. This of course makes it easy to get depressed, even though there is nothing to get depressed about, and in reality I just want a cigarette. There is something of a spiral here, as not getting pleasure through smoking increases my dependance on other sources of life affirming enjoyment, and I am worried that I might be straining those other sources too much and annoying them.

Plus, not smoking at all makes me cranky in general - not in the "adorable and endearing crank" way that you all know and love - more the colicky baby type (inconsolable screaming, clenched fists, increased bowel activity and gas).

Why is it that I always try to do too many things at once, thereby endangering my ability succeed in any of them? It's not enough to be finalizing my divorce (an day now!) - I also have to simultaneously quit smoking, drop the anti-depressants, have my stepson move across the country and make sure that I don't screw up a very valuable friendship (and dopamine source), all the while not allowing myself the luxury of drinking myself into oblivion like any sensible person would do (though if I did that, I would probably smoke, so, no real solution there ).

The only solutions that I can see are writing and videogame playing, both of which seem to have a calming effect on my brain - there have been studies that show that video games are better at stimulating your hypothalamus than chocolate and sex (I assume at the same time); I need neither - I have Final Fantasy 1.

I've also been taking a lot more pictures lately - the flickr stream will be updated as soon as I can unclench my fists long enough to tag and upload.

An Accidental Update

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So, all afternoon I have been feeling this wierd, non-specific, malaise. Sadness that is not associated with anything in particular. At first I thought it was a combination of the mind-numbingly boring document creation that I am doing today, and general tiredness from the time change. Moments ago though I realized that I forgot to med up this morning. So I am sitting here at the end of the day worrying about all sorts of things, and not getting the usual dopamine hit that comes from taking a break and checking boingboing.

This is interesting in that it's really not that bad - I mean, it's tolerable, and considering all the other things going on (adjusting to change in diet, not smoking, time change, divorce, and what have you) it's really not that bad. This gives me hope that when I taper off of these things in a month or so the come down is not going to be that bad.

The End of the Experiment

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Well, I am officially calling off the documentation of the anti-depressents. I'm still going to be taking them, since they seem to be helping, or at least not hurting anything - there is just nothing interesting to write about them. I feel perfectly normal, I occasionally feel sad, frustrated or bored, and I occasionally feel excited, happy, and so on.

So, no reason to write about that any more. Although I may write something in a few months when I stop taking them, just in case the withdrawal is interesting.

Toothless Gears

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I've been thinking over the last weekend about how I've been feeling, and what to attribute it to. Overall, I've been feeling pretty good - much of which, I think, can be attributed to time, the "definite-ness" of the breakup (no more wondering about/worrying over what will happen) and the feeling that I am now the one who is in control of what happens to me.

There is one thing though that I think can be attributed to the medication - it's the feeling that the relationship issues just don't have any traction at all. Whatever part of my brain it was that would get engaged when a thought about the breakup crossed my mind just doesn't seem to engage. I know that in the past it has taken me longer to get over less painful breakups than this. Now if something about it crosses my mind, it crosses, and that's it; there isn't anything else.

It's a weird feeling, in a way, but not really a bad one. I don't want, or need, to focus on those thoughts because there is really no point to them, or anything that I can actually do about them, so it's sort of nice to just have them pass through and be on their way. It's good to know that the medication doesn't stop the thoughts, it just stops the anxiety/worry/obsessing over them. Back to the meat robot thing, it's like I'm still me, I still feel the feelings/have the thoughts, but the improved programming doesn't lockup when they occur like it did before - security patches have been applied that prevent denial of service attacks for working.

Of course, I could be wrong, and it just that I am moving on; but I think the medication is helping to do that.

So...I'm looking for a house now...need to find one witt a crawlspace. I have a bag of quicklime, so that's taken care of, but I need someplace for it to work it's magic...

Okay, not really. It's worse than that (yes, worse than deciding that becoming a serial killer is my next growth phase) - my therapist apparently reads my blog (hence the above, macabre sense of humour and all). It didn't occur to me to ask whether or not I mentioned it (I think I did) or if she just Googled me (I am the top result for Edwin Gore & Ed Gore - take that guy in a band with my name!!! I probably should not be applying for any jobs soon...)

I got busted today because, according to her I am more open on my blog than I am in therapy. I'm not sure why that is, since, after all, any and everyone in the world can read this; and I trust her. I think the reasons are two-fold, though I am likely to be wrong. One reason is that every time I have been in any sort of therapy in the past it was with someone else, and that person was the one I was talking to, with the therapist acting as mediator. With just me and her there, I am not sure what I should be doing. I have never worked on things where I was talking just to me (with someone else mediating...).

The other thing is that here I have more time. It can take half an hour or longer to come up with an entry - I can edit things, rewrite things, figure out exactly what it is that I am feeling. Also, I control the conversation...I don't have to write about anything that I don't want to write about; and there are things I will never write about here (serial killing is not one of those - I could write for days about that).

That whole control thing. I think that there is something to that.

Nothing to Report (That's a Good Thing)

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I haven't posted anything the last couple of days because there really hasn't been anything to post. Things have been going pretty well, I feel pretty good, and that's really all there is to it. I feel fine.

My therapist is actualy talking about winding things down, unless I have something else specific I want to work on - think I might want to work on getting better at noticing unusual attachments in the future...

Other than that, nothing to really say. I've been reading, watching saved TV ( I am now completely caught up on The O.C., and watched all the Wonderfalls episodes that were made), and starting to look for more permanent quarters; the room with shared bath and kitchen thing is just not working with the ladies (okay there are no ladies, really I just need a place to put my dogs).

Oh, and on the whole The O.C. and Wonderfalls thing; are there any other good shows that I missed over the last couple of years I should be catching up on?

Feeling, Well, Groovy

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I continue to have no idea whether it's the medication, or just me, but I feel great. Not like manic, excited great, but you know, just great. Very happy with myself, and with what is going on; still not what I would have chosen, but I am fine with it now and can see how, given the circumstance, my life is going to be better than it was before the breakup.

I feel like I am in control of my life again, and like I am making good decisions about how to move forward. It doesn't feel like I'm racing out of control down a hill to cliff, or anything. I just feel good about everything.

While it may be partially the medication, I think it's also something that happened a little over a week ago that gave me some real insight into how things would be better. Ask me about it if you are interested.

Straight On Till Morning

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Hmmm...nothing really to report on the depression and medication front. I feel fine. No idea whether it's because of the medication, or just because I feel fine, but, as noted, I feel fine. Peachy. Groovy. Hunkey-dory.

Internet connection at home has been up and down throughout the weekend, which is making it hard to get the current episodes of "The O.C.", but that is pretty much the only problem in my life at the moment.

Okay...weird

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So...my toes.

They are really, really long. Like oddly so.

Just saying.

Normal is the Watchword

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So, still feeling pretty normal. Not depressed, not particularly happy, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

One weird thing has been happening for the last couple of weeks though, and I'm going to write about it, since it just happened seconds ago.

I'm vibrating. It's really weird and I have no idea what is causing it, but occasionally, some part of me, usually one of my legs on the outer thigh, will feel like something is vibrating next to it. The thing it feels most like is a cellphone on vibrate laying against the afflicted bodypart. But, looking at my desk I see my cell phone sitting a good three feet away, and no sign that it's doing anything.

Really weird. Perhaps it's the CIA or Alien implants acting up...

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