Posted on February 23, 2019
I’ve now been taking various medications for four and a half years. It’s been a very mixed experience but through it all, I’m an advocate of medication because when we get it right, it’s incredible. A whole new person emerges, a person you’d forgotten you could be and that is the most amazing experience. It’s the closest thing to freedom that I’ve ever felt. But during that time, there have been a number of interesting and strange experiences. I don’t know if reading about them will be helpful to anybody but all of this stuff can be so scary if you think you’re going through it alone. So I’m putting it out there, just in case.
I’ve written about this before but it makes sense to include it here as well. Because of several very busy days, I forgot to take my Venlafaxine and accidentally went into withdrawal. It started with an almost debilitating headache and on day four I woke up unable to think clearly. I couldn’t hold on to a thought: they were moving so fast that it made me feel dizzy and sick. On my Psychiatrist’s advice, I resumed the medication and I started to feel better pretty quickly although it took about a week before I felt like myself again.
Too much Pregabalin
At one point, I picked up my prescription and didn’t realise that the pills were at different doses than the previous prescription had been. So when I thought I was taking 150mg, I was actually taking 450mg. I woke up the next morning feeling shocking: I felt like my head was filled with cotton wool, the ground was moving under my feet like ocean waves, and my legs and hands kept twitching. It was awful and because I wasn’t aware that I’d changed my dosage, I was really freaked out. I ended up at the out of hours doctors because both me and my family were so worried. They didn’t find anything serious so we were left to wait and see but then my Mum realised what had happened. So that was a scary experience that I have no desire to repeat; I’m much more diligent about checking these things now.
Obsessive eating with Amitriptyline
Almost from the moment I started taking Amitriptyline, I was obsessed with eating, constantly thinking about what I could eat next, what it would taste like, what it would feel like. It was very much about the sensation of eating rather than being hungry. And the higher the dose, the more I wanted to eat. It was all I could think about. Seriously. I couldn’t think about anything else; I couldn’t function. It eventually caused me so much anxiety that I had to stop taking the Amitriptyline and try a different medication. I’d lost a lot of weight while on previous medications but I gained it all back while taking Amitriptyline and I found that very stressful and upsetting.
Taking Diazepam with Redbull
During a period of particularly high anxiety, I was taking Diazepam regularly throughout the day. The anxiety lifted but what was left was this overwhelming tiredness and sleepiness that had me falling asleep in the middle of the day, sometimes mid sentence. So I started drinking Redbull to keep myself awake and functioning. It wasn’t until a few weeks later – when I used Redbull to wash down the Diazepam – that I realised that it was the Diazepam that was making me so sleepy and that this was not something I could continue to do (not that Diazepam had ever been a long term strategy). I’d been taking it to ease the transition between medications and fortunately my anxiety started to go down and I didn’t feel the need to keep taking it.
Running out of Pregabalin
At one point, I ran out of the 225mg capsules, which didn’t seem like a problem because it was less than a week until my next appointment and we still had a load of Pregablin pills from earlier prescriptions, when we were still trying to get the dosage right. But then we realised they were 50mg capsules that you couldn’t split in half so I wasn’t going to be able to take my full dose of 225mg. I’d have to take 250mg or 200mg and the safer course was the latter. So I did several days on 200mg with pulsing headaches to remind me exactly why you take the exact amount you’re prescribed.
Too Much Magnesium?
This is speculation but not long after I started taking a Magnesium supplement, my mood seemed to nosedive. I’d been doing pretty well and was actually having bursts of what I think was happiness and so I’d felt able to add the (nutritionist) suggested supplement into my system. Nothing happened straight away and taking it became a habit but then depression started to creep in again. The only thing we could attribute it to – the only change – was the addition of the Magnesium. I’ve always been incredibly sensitive to stuff like this (I once threw up moments after taking a different supplement because it had too much copper in it) so I stopped taking it and within a couple of weeks, I felt more like myself.
Twitching on Pregabalin
The one real side effect of taking Pregabalin – in my experience, at least – is that it causes twitching, mostly in my legs but sometimes in my hands and arms too. It’s very disconcerting to not feel in control of my body and I really, really don’t like it. But as of now, Pregabalin is something I need to get through the day. It helps me manage my anxiety but if another option became available, I would jump at the chance to change, even with all the potential problems of switching medications.
I hope I haven’t put any of you off medication. These experiences weren’t fun but as I said, getting it right is worth it. At least I hope so.
Category: depression, medication, mental health, treatment Tagged: amitriptyline, anti anxiety, anti depressants, anti-depressant, antianxiety, antidepressants, diazepam, magnesium, medication review, medication withdrawal, mental health treatment, pregabalin, supplement, treating depression, tricyclic antidepressants, venlafaxine
Posted on December 31, 2018
This year has been a struggle. Almost eighteen months ago, I made the decision to change my medication and that has basically been my life ever since. Lots of pills and doctors appointments but mostly dealing with the side effects, everything from nausea to shaking to a complete inability to think clearly. I don’t think I realised what a huge undertaking it was going to be but it’s not exactly surprising: you’re throwing all the chemicals in your brain and body out of whack. I tried Venlafaxine, Lithium, and Lamotrigine; I weaned myself off Venlafaxine, tried Amitriptyline, and now I’m taking Pregabalin and Clomipramine. This is the most promising combination so far and I’ve actually had a few really good days so I’m cautiously optimistic. But it’s been a long, hard road, sometimes so difficult that I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. And I don’t really feel able to acknowledge the good bits without paying tribute to the really tough things I had to go through and so got through.
The first of The Big Difficult Things was moving house. God, that was a struggle. Having thought that I’d found some sort of peace around it, when it came to the day, I was absolutely devastated. There were a lot of tears – from all of us. That house was my home for fifteen years – home to the greatest triumphs and tragedies of my life – and so, to some extent, it will always be my home. I think I could probably walk into my old bedroom twenty years from now and fall right back into that old rhythm.
I’m still learning the rhythms of the new house. There are days where it feels normal and then others where I hate it so much I could scream. Most of the time, it still feels like someone else’s house. Someone else’s house with all our stuff in. But every day is a step in the right direction. We’re filling all the empty space with memories, slowly but surely.
I’ve been writing a lot about Claire Wineland of late but I couldn’t write about this year and not mention her. Her death was another of The Big Difficult Things of this year. I stumbled across her YouTube channel late last year and have been following her on social media ever since. She was – and still is – a big inspiration for me and her death hit me really hard. It just makes no sense to me and never will and I’m still struggling to cope with that.
And through all of this, depression has been my constant, oppressive companion. While I had experienced depression before, this was a whole new kind of prison. The lows were lower than I’d ever experienced and there were several pretty scary moments. And as well as affecting my mood, my depression made it almost impossible to write songs. I’ve had many discussions about writer’s block over the years and I’ve always thought that there are things that can make writing difficult and so you have to figure out what’s causing the block and address it. In my case, it feels like depression suppresses the creative part of my brain: I don’t get random sparks of inspiration, I can’t solve problems creatively, and any active creativity – like songwriting – is like pulling teeth. It feels like writing songs requires a certain level of functioning that I’m just not capable of reaching while depressed. I want to write more about this – about depression and writer’s block – but that’s for another post.
Having said all of that, there have been good days, as well as good experiences on bad days.
By far the best part of this year has been the time spent with my friends and family, whether that be online or in the physical world, in Nashville, London, or Brighton. Or anywhere in between. These people have kept me going through the hardest period of my life so far and I’m so ridiculously grateful to them for that.
I got to travel a little bit this year, which was amazing. I managed to get back to Nashville where I had the most intense ten days possibly of my life. I got to see some lovely people, write songs (or try to), listen to some of the best songwriters in the world, and play a Song Suffragettes show. Even though I was incredibly anxious about it, that may very well have been the best day of my year.
I also travelled to Iceland for the first time and saw so many beautiful things, including a 60m waterfall, the Diamond Beach, and the Northern Lights. The natural scenery in Iceland took my breath away time and again. It felt like the first breath you take after being underwater. Of course, there was a lot of anxiety during the trip but it helped me in a way that only the magnificence of nature is able to.
There have been more wonderful live music events than I can count: Paramore, Kelsea Ballerini, Sugarland, Kacey Musgraves, Natalie Hemby (and all of Tin Pan South in Nashville), Frank Turner, Betsy Lane, The Shires, Sinead Burgess, The Brummies, Halsey, Kina Grannis, Aislin Evans, Maren Morris, and of course, Taylor Swift. Despite the anxieties around concerts, these are the places where I feel most alive and so, throughout this difficult period, I’ve always tried to ensure that there was another concert to look forward to.
And despite my musical struggles this year, I’ve actually played a few gigs and played shows that I am so proud to have been a part of. I got to play with WRTW again and it was even more fun than the first time (if that’s possible). I played Autism’s Got Talent in London, which was such a great opportunity. I played for Brighton Soup and Disability Pride in Brighton, two amazing organisations that I can’t praise enough. I also played Summer Fest in Worthing, my first show with my awesome friend, Richard Sanderson. And of course, I got to play a Song Suffragettes show when I was in Nashville.
I’ve also managed to do a handful to Autism research studies, as well as giving blood. I’ve been feeling so useless so I tried to contribute as best I could during this time where I’ve felt incapable of contributing anything at all.
Another big part of this year was getting used to the kittens: my cat had two kittens in February and me and my Mum just fell in love with them so we ended up keeping them. I love them dearly but it has been a major adjustment and a real struggle, especially with the daily battle that is depression. So this has been both a good and a bad thing. I want to write more about this whole experience because there were – and still are – a lot of complicated emotions involved. But above it all, we have Lucky and Lucy and the kittens and I love them more than life itself.
So, that’s it: 2018. It has been a hard, hard year, and one I’m very happy to leave behind but I’m cautiously optimistic about the next few months and the next year. I’ve felt better in the last couple of weeks than I have all year and I’m hopeful that this is characteristic of what’s to come.
“2018, the year of living, fighting, but ultimately, surviving depression. There was a lot of gold in the grey but I’m so ready to move on to 2019.” (x)
Category: animals, autism, event, holidays, medication, mental health, music, treatment Tagged: 2018, 2018 in review, amitriptyline, anti anxiety, anti depressants, anti-depressant, antianxiety, antidepressants, anxiety, cat, claire wineland, clomipramine, concert, concerts, creative block, death, depression, family, friends, grief, halsey, happy new year, iceland, kitten, kittens, lamotrigine, life, lithium, maren morris, mental health blog, mental health blogger, mental health blogging, mental health treatment, mental illness, moving house, nashville, new home, new house, new year, performing, pregaballin, singer, singersongwriter, song suffragettes, songwriter, songwriting, support system, taylor swift, treating depression, venlafaxine, writers block
Posted on July 28, 2018
I have now been taking Amitriptyline for about six weeks so it’s probably time to take a step back and get some perspective. I usually look at it week by week but this time, that doesn’t really make sense. The effects (and side effects) have been fairly consistent…
I’ve been feeling overly emotional ever since I stopped taking the Venlafaxine and that hasn’t changed with the addition of Amitriptyline. Everything makes me cry, from difficult decisions to TV storylines. And sometimes I cry for no reason at all. After twelve months of feeling incredibly disconnected from my emotions, it’s pretty overwhelming. I’ve described it as similar to turning an old tap: it’s nothing, nothing, nothing and then suddenly, it’s spilling everywhere and I’m emoting all over the place. It feels very extreme and I don’t seem to be able to control it.
But having said that, I am thinking more clearly. Up until very recently, I’ve been struggling to think, to write, to engage at all. I’m not sure I can really explain it: it’s so deeply rooted in feelings rather than words. It’s not really measurable. It’s kind of like trying to run through water: it takes so much energy to achieve so little. And once you get out of the water, moving is so easy and it’s such a relief. I’m so relieved to be able to think again. I don’t feel like I’m back to normal (and I’m still struggling in the songwriting department) but the fact that I can even write this out is a big deal.
One weird consequence of changing medications is that I want to eat all the time. I really hadn’t expected that. When I stopped taking the Venlafaxine, I was eating about one meal a day: I didn’t have much will to eat and the medication made me incredibly nauseous. And now, the urge to eat is there at all times. There have been days where I haven’t been able to concentrate because all I can think about is food. It’s causing me a lot of anxiety: firstly, because it’s a pretty extreme change (and I am NOT good with change) and secondly, because eating doesn’t satisfy the urge. I eat and it’s still there. It’s so frustrating. I’m not quite sure what to do about it.
My depression hasn’t lifted (yet?) but it has definitely shifted and in the reshuffle, my anxiety has come back in full force. I’m anxious all the time. Before, it felt like I was too disconnected from everything to really feel any anxiety but now, it’s almost overwhelming. I feel like I’m constantly running from it, filling my day with distractions to keep it at bay. But then, at night, it takes over. It’s made me anxious about going to bed and there have been more than a few occasions where I’ve accidentally stayed up all night in my attempts to distract myself. The anxieties themselves aren’t new but usually I’d only have to deal with them one at a time whereas now it’s like they’re all present all the time. It’s exhausting and scary and draining.
So it’s neither a miracle nor a disaster. And it’s better than the Venlafaxine. Other than that, I don’t know. I’m feeling very overwhelmed at the moment.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.