I've gone off the Zoloft. Pretty much cold turkey. A couple of reasons:
- Dad is doing better. Not great, but at least somewhat stable. For the moment.
- I was starting to feel slightly dulled in the emotional sense. I have heard people on antidepressants talk about this feeling, and I frankly hated it.
- When they say under side effects 'decreased sexual desire' - they are not kidding around. For the last 3 months, I couldn't have been less in the mood if I was falling out of a plane. Bryan was getting rather... frustrated.
- I was starting to feel like it wasn't doing a whole lot of good. Maybe I'll feel I need it down the road, but right now, I want to try to make it without the drugs
* Alrighty, that was yesterday... and I obviously never got around to finishing. Let's see: walk yes, but a fairly short one as I was feeling puny. KBs no, as before, feeling meh. Today? A long ass visit with Mom and Dad to the Oncologist, whom I love, but seeing as she's the #1 Lung Cancer Doc in town, she double and triple books, and we were there for a couple hours. Not a lot of new news, but he seems to be, in a bloodwork stance, tolerating chemo fairly well. He starts the next round tomorrow, which means the next week or so, he'll be down for the count. We took Addie and went to lunch with my brother (who is not as connected with the family, married to a total nutcase, and very self centered. I was not overjoyed to see him.) for Mom and Dad's anniversary. As the long day wore on, I felt crappier and crappier. I've had a cough for a few weeks, but kept chalking it up to allergies. It's gotten worse, and I'm getting that telltale bronchitis tightness in my chest. Son of a bitch. I have a wheezy cough and just feel run down. I went to Urgent Care at 5:30, and after hearing family history (lung cancer, lung cancer and oh, yeah, lung cancer! Three family members including Dad.) said 'let's do an X ray. Like, now!'
I was glad they did, even though I knew it was too soon for the bronchitis to show up. I know from here on out that I'll be totally paranoid anytime I have an ongoing cough. I didn't realize how much I've been suppressing emotions until the kindly nurse came in and patted my hand and said 'your lungs look great, no spots, no shadows" and I promptly burst into tears. I cried all the way home. I cried for my fear of the future and the unknown. I cried because I'm lonely and frustrated. I cried because my Dad will die someday very soon. I cried because I'm terrified it will happen to me. There is an isolation that goes along with having a dying parent. You have to be strong for them, and so often, people around you don't know what to say or do. You find yourself, in return, building up walls and wearing armor, because you get so tired of being let down and disappointed. People see you as aloof or stand offish, and I want to say 'this is what I have to do to survive each day. I can't let my guard down, even for a moment. Because if I do, you'll see how fragile I really am.'
The doctor started me on Zpac to head this crap off at the pass. Which is awesome, because I can't afford to be really sick. He also gave me steroids and cough syrup so I can sleep. I'm hoping to feel back to normal by the weekend, then I can refocus on training. It is the only thing that keeps me sane, and when I can't do it, I miss it terribly.
I had a breakthrough moment while walking the other night. I am a typically reserved person, I've talked about my inferiority issues and never feeling good enough. As a kid, the only time I felt good about myself was when I was in ballet class. I took for 10 years, and I was good. It was one of the few things I knew I was good at. When I was dancing, I felt strong and confident and beautiful. I felt superhuman. I haven't had anything that has made me feel that way in years. When I go on a crazy ass long walk, and I am doing free running and parkour- style leaps and jumps and running up a steep hill, I feel so damn strong and good. When I do 500 or 600 kettlebell swings (or 1000, like that one time!), I feel 100% confident in myself. I feel like I know who I am. That's why I love it. It's better than any therapy. And no matter how much the world around me is crumbling, that's something I can control. It's an aspect of my life that I know will only keep getting better, as long as I choose to continue training.
Alright, this entry has gone on way too long and been all over the place. I'm off to take a shower and wait for the narcotic -based tussin (woot!) to kick in. And hopefully, tomorrow I'll feel better.