Those who know me well will know how intellectually scatty I am.
I gratefully decline the offer of books to borrow from friends because I know that despite how interesting a title may sound to me in that moment (and it really doesn’t take much to pique my interest), I cannot guarantee, and indeed it is highly unlikely, that I will read it in the immediate future.
I could turn straight from the densest, grisliest and harrowing historical tome to children’s literature, and be as invested in the latter as I was in the former only a single page before.
Thus, having today finished E. M. Forster’s excellent short story, ‘The Machine Stops’, I now move on from writing about ‘The Totalitarianism of Technology‘ to a brief Life Update.
Well then, what’s new?
Very simply, as of today, I no long carry a prescription for Citalopram.
It has been out of my system for around four (maybe five) days; I told my doctor four and got the impression that, as I myself was feeling, there would be scant difference between the two numbers at this point.
When I found myself running low a couple of weeks ago, I began spacing them out. I then ran out completely; only to find half a pack’s supply in a draw yesterday evening. But by this point, they were, as mentioned, (to my mind) out of my system.
I stress that this is not advisable and one should consult their doctor before halting any medication.
For me, however, I had been feeling that it wasn’t as necessary as it once was; hence the absence of urgency, on my part. It turned out that I hadn’t seen my doctor since November last year. I didn’t realise it had been so long(!) He had given me a repeated prescription to carry me through the Christmas period and so, now March 2017 was when I was coming to the end of my Citalopram supply.
Nevertheless, I told my doctor that I was feeling centuries better than I had been, and lightyears away from the hellish state I had been in at the initial period of prescription. He could quite obviously tell, and (furthermore) looked himself visibly happy about this. We talked, and I explained that I didn’t feel I needed them at this point; that I may well have some stressful weeks ahead of me, but that I knew that that was not what this specific medication was for. He agreed that – and (I dare say) not least based on my having opened the conversation in a particularly positive tone – I had, it would seem, come to the end of this previously necessary prescriptive cycle.
We parted on pleasantries, I reassured in the knowledge that should I begin to feel that I was in any way approaching the mental state I had been enduring six months ago, I would could come back to him.
In other news, I have been to a number of gigs of late, and happily inhaled a whole bunch of books this past weekend. (More about this here.) But most importantly, I wanted to mark this date in the positive.
If you yourself are struggling, please don’t hesitate to talk to someone.
Please also know that, if indeed you are placed on medication, this is neither a bad nor negative thing; it may, conversely, be precisely what you need at that precise moment in time.
Medication is not, for want of a better phrase, a “life sentence”.
It may not feel like it at the time – and goodness knows, it may take a whole
lot of time before this approaches truth in your mind – but things
will get better.
If you need someone to talk to, feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or, more easily, tweet me at @whateverwordsuk
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