Plurality
Thus far, Cymbalta has made me nauseated and little else.
I've noted in the past few days a deep and clear separation between more "normal" thinking and thoughts more characteristic of my depressed mood (including but in no way limited to intense suicidality and profound terror in regards to multiple aspects of my current and tenuous future friendship with KH). It's as though I'm listening to two radically different songs being played concurrently while understanding both, allowing myself to discuss one, and being able to turn off neither. Not enough time has elapsed to be able to say if this is due to the new drug, an effect of being in a different location (I took a brief, desperate five day vacation back home to Chicago), or just an odd fluke.
Most probable is that the sort of separation, compartmentalization even, that I'm experiencing is a result of locale and nothing else. I don't anticipate that it will be maintained once I have returned to Carbondale; if anything, I'll go back to spending my days holed up in my room, drinking too much and resenting every person that doesn't have the sorts of long-term psychological/psychiatric and consequent social challenges that I do.
I haven't decided if I want to ask KH to pick me up from the train, if I want to ask another friend (I can't recall if I've assigned her an anonym or not), or if I just want to walk. Asking KH to do anything for me at this point feels like I'm asking for too much, regardless of how minor the request.
However I get home, I'll probably have a drink when I get in.
I've noted in the past few days a deep and clear separation between more "normal" thinking and thoughts more characteristic of my depressed mood (including but in no way limited to intense suicidality and profound terror in regards to multiple aspects of my current and tenuous future friendship with KH). It's as though I'm listening to two radically different songs being played concurrently while understanding both, allowing myself to discuss one, and being able to turn off neither. Not enough time has elapsed to be able to say if this is due to the new drug, an effect of being in a different location (I took a brief, desperate five day vacation back home to Chicago), or just an odd fluke.
Most probable is that the sort of separation, compartmentalization even, that I'm experiencing is a result of locale and nothing else. I don't anticipate that it will be maintained once I have returned to Carbondale; if anything, I'll go back to spending my days holed up in my room, drinking too much and resenting every person that doesn't have the sorts of long-term psychological/psychiatric and consequent social challenges that I do.
I haven't decided if I want to ask KH to pick me up from the train, if I want to ask another friend (I can't recall if I've assigned her an anonym or not), or if I just want to walk. Asking KH to do anything for me at this point feels like I'm asking for too much, regardless of how minor the request.
However I get home, I'll probably have a drink when I get in.
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