Citalopram Chronicles, Week 2
The first three days began with the nausea subsiding. The Tremors dwindled. The heart stilled. But the discomfort did not disappear completely. That sensation of some dark melancholic thought chocked at the throat was ever present. In quiet moments, my gut still fluttered. And sleep did not return at night.
On some nights I caught a few hours of intermittent sleep. Exhaustion took its toll as I navigate the affairs of the day. My fuse burnt short. I was ill tempered, distracted, and every small thing would set me off into a rage, which I hid well from the world and channeled inward.
But something changed on Wednesday, exactly 299 hours after I took my first pill. It happened mid conversation, like a switch turning on and I was back. Not some happier, cured version of me, but myself as had grown familiar to me over the years, the pre-medicated me. Suddenly I felt in control of my emotions and faculties again, and despite still shivering faintly from the hormones coursing through my brain I was no slave to it.
Hour 299. I have returned.
The mood swings have gone.
I can’t say that I am feeling better. I’m still not sleeping, to the point where my memory is suffering and any sudden motion leaves my mind foggy and temples splintered. A grey ooze clogs the world. Nevertheless, I have regained some modicum of control over myself, enough to put back on a mask. And I found again the enjoyment of music.
Antidepressant take up to four to six weeks to show their effect. The worst part comes first, and I think I’m through the worst of it. If only I could sleep. Oh how I long to sleep well again…