I took my second dose of Celexa at about nine 0’clock. The label says it’s supposed to make me drowsy, but it’s now well after one in the morning, and I remain awake against my will.
The last time I was put on antidepressants was about 12 years ago. In the space of a year I had lost my father to cancer, miscarried, and discovered that my then-husband was having an affair. To top it all off, he continued having the affair openly after I confronted him, and things got very, very ugly. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Finally, he moved out, but I was a complete wreck. I sought medical help.
It’s been a long time, but if I recall correctly, the doctor put me on Welbutrin. I hated Welbutrin. Instead of feeling better I felt nothing.
I poked around online for a bit and found some patient reviews of Celexa. Naturally they were mixed, but the good reviews were really good. Basically, “After a week the side effects lessened, and I started to feel great!” and “I have so much more energy!” and “Sex is the bestest ever now!”
So, now I find myself drifting into ridiculous fantasies about how great my life will be a month from now. I won’t have to struggle to get my ass out of bed. I’ll keep the plans I make because I’ll actually want to be around people. I’ll fucking bake cookies, and things will be good between me and T again.
I’ll just have to wait and see, but I want to believe it. I want to be positive and hopeful. I want these little pink pills to fix me.