So where have I been?
That's a good question. The answer is a long one, though, and deals with lots of stress and brain stuff, so I'll put it under a cut.
Shortly after my last post to this journal last April, I went into another Stress Jag - my second of 2010, and it ended with having my medication dosage upped (25 to 37.5 mg, putting me back to where I started). Another adjustment period later, and I was back to what passes for normal.
In the fall, I was asked to return to the stage again, and I accepted, but one week into the rehearsal progress, bam, stress jag #3 of the year came to visit. Thankfully, this was not a very intensive show, and the rehearsal process was not grueling. I got past the stress before curtain, and took some time off work during tech week so that I would not overexert.
That backfired, as coming back to work set off stress jag #4. This one ended with another increase of medication (50 mg, higher than ever before) with the proviso that I would start looking for healthier ways of dealing with stress and start reducing as soon as possible. It was beginning to occur to me that these jags were set off by periods of a sudden increase in physical exertion, leaving me mentally exhausted and unable to cope with things that would normally not affect me. An exercise program seemed like a good idea.
Then I was sick with one cold or another for a month or so, and when the cold weather hit (relative term for those of us who live here, I know) right around Christmastime, here came stress jag #5.
The day after Christmas, we bought a Nintendo Wii with a Wii Fit, and started this exercise thing.
In the week between Christmas and New Years, though, something else happened that literally changed everything. I woke up drenched in sweat for the second straight morning feeling overheated, exhausted and feverish (in spite of not having a fever), and discovered both a complete inability to spit and dark orange, cloudy urine.
I was freaking dehydrated.
We got a new, heavy, ridiculously warm blanket from my mother for Christmas of 2009, and when the cold weather hit, we piled that onto the bed. Night sweats followed, followed by the stress jag. The same thing happened when we first started using the new blanket at the end of last year, just before stress jag #1 (early January of 2010). We were also using electric space heaters that were cooking any remaining moisture out of the already dry air.
Things began to make a shocking amount of sense. Stress jags 2, 3 and 4 were not only preceded by physical activity -- they were preceded by physical activity during heat waves -- nice, dry Santa Ana heat waves. I looked up symptoms for chronic and acute dehydration, and it was like looking at a list of what happens during every one of these stress jags that I've been having since even before I started taking medication.
I haven't been a good hydrate-er since high school, when I ran long distance. I've been a soda drinker, using drinking fountains from time to time, drinking bottled water on occasion because I know water is supposed to be good for me, but never devoting myself to really keeping hydrated. Small wonder that when the heat and dry hits, and my activity levels go up, I don't have the physical resources to deal with it.
I've been training myself for so long to look at every one of these stress reactions as a mental thing that I've neglected the very real truth that the mind and body are connected, and that no, it doesn't all have to be in my head. It might be in the body as well.
So after that wake-up call, I started increasing my liquid intake. I read up on hyponatremia, and certainly didn't go nuts with it, but I've been ramping it up to a guideline that I've seen from multiple sources -- at least one ounce per day per two pounds of body weight. A few days went by, and I was feeling kind of uneasy, thinking that I'd just set myself up for yet another difficult adjustment period. Yay.
Then, upon returning to work, it got even more interesting. The unease turned into some very familiar foggy-headedness, tension and anxiety -- the sort I felt after every medication increase, only more so. Like clockwork, in the two to three hours following my meds, I would get slammed with it.
Came to read that one of the problems of chronic dehydration is that it affects the body's ability to produce serotonin. It keeps the brain from properly synthesizing tryptophan into serotonin, and the liver ends up taking away a lot of the available tryptophan for detox purposes to make up for the kidneys not doing their job to their fullest.
Suddenly, 50 mg of an SSRI, designed to help the brain retain serotonin due to its relative scarcity, felt like an overdose.
Last Wednesday, on my own, I cut to 25 mg (one pill instead of two, and the dose I was taking a year ago) and made an appointment to see my healthcare provider. Her reaction to the entire thing was along the lines of "Huh, never heard of that -- it makes sense, though!" Hardly a confidence builder, but she agreed to the lower dose.
A week into that lower dose, and it still hits me hard (it's hitting right now, in fact), but it's more like a city bus than a freight train at this point, giving rise to the thought that it's still too much, but cutting down any more suddenly than this is dangerous. Thus, I'm in the peculiar place of feeling overmedicated and in withdrawal at the same time. I'm weakened physically to the point where even a brisk walk around the hospital campus exhausts me utterly. I'm having vivid dreams that occasionally become ripping nightmares. Par for the course, sad to say, and I've been here several times.
So it's another adjustment period, and it's not been pleasant. But the idea that I may have hit on a simple reason for so much of my past stress is heartening in its own way. After two dose increases last year, I was starting to feel pretty darned glum about my situation. Now, it looks like there may be some light at the end of that tunnel after all.
Mostly, it's nice to know that maybe all of this hasn't been in my head, as so many wanted me to believe. The stuff I'm going through now, though, as the brain chemistry resettles yet again -- that IS in my head, and it's frustrating as hell that I can do nothing at this point but wait.
I'm ready to get better now, and waiting is damned hard.
So yeah... that's where I've been.
Shortly after my last post to this journal last April, I went into another Stress Jag - my second of 2010, and it ended with having my medication dosage upped (25 to 37.5 mg, putting me back to where I started). Another adjustment period later, and I was back to what passes for normal.
In the fall, I was asked to return to the stage again, and I accepted, but one week into the rehearsal progress, bam, stress jag #3 of the year came to visit. Thankfully, this was not a very intensive show, and the rehearsal process was not grueling. I got past the stress before curtain, and took some time off work during tech week so that I would not overexert.
That backfired, as coming back to work set off stress jag #4. This one ended with another increase of medication (50 mg, higher than ever before) with the proviso that I would start looking for healthier ways of dealing with stress and start reducing as soon as possible. It was beginning to occur to me that these jags were set off by periods of a sudden increase in physical exertion, leaving me mentally exhausted and unable to cope with things that would normally not affect me. An exercise program seemed like a good idea.
Then I was sick with one cold or another for a month or so, and when the cold weather hit (relative term for those of us who live here, I know) right around Christmastime, here came stress jag #5.
The day after Christmas, we bought a Nintendo Wii with a Wii Fit, and started this exercise thing.
In the week between Christmas and New Years, though, something else happened that literally changed everything. I woke up drenched in sweat for the second straight morning feeling overheated, exhausted and feverish (in spite of not having a fever), and discovered both a complete inability to spit and dark orange, cloudy urine.
I was freaking dehydrated.
We got a new, heavy, ridiculously warm blanket from my mother for Christmas of 2009, and when the cold weather hit, we piled that onto the bed. Night sweats followed, followed by the stress jag. The same thing happened when we first started using the new blanket at the end of last year, just before stress jag #1 (early January of 2010). We were also using electric space heaters that were cooking any remaining moisture out of the already dry air.
Things began to make a shocking amount of sense. Stress jags 2, 3 and 4 were not only preceded by physical activity -- they were preceded by physical activity during heat waves -- nice, dry Santa Ana heat waves. I looked up symptoms for chronic and acute dehydration, and it was like looking at a list of what happens during every one of these stress jags that I've been having since even before I started taking medication.
I haven't been a good hydrate-er since high school, when I ran long distance. I've been a soda drinker, using drinking fountains from time to time, drinking bottled water on occasion because I know water is supposed to be good for me, but never devoting myself to really keeping hydrated. Small wonder that when the heat and dry hits, and my activity levels go up, I don't have the physical resources to deal with it.
I've been training myself for so long to look at every one of these stress reactions as a mental thing that I've neglected the very real truth that the mind and body are connected, and that no, it doesn't all have to be in my head. It might be in the body as well.
So after that wake-up call, I started increasing my liquid intake. I read up on hyponatremia, and certainly didn't go nuts with it, but I've been ramping it up to a guideline that I've seen from multiple sources -- at least one ounce per day per two pounds of body weight. A few days went by, and I was feeling kind of uneasy, thinking that I'd just set myself up for yet another difficult adjustment period. Yay.
Then, upon returning to work, it got even more interesting. The unease turned into some very familiar foggy-headedness, tension and anxiety -- the sort I felt after every medication increase, only more so. Like clockwork, in the two to three hours following my meds, I would get slammed with it.
Came to read that one of the problems of chronic dehydration is that it affects the body's ability to produce serotonin. It keeps the brain from properly synthesizing tryptophan into serotonin, and the liver ends up taking away a lot of the available tryptophan for detox purposes to make up for the kidneys not doing their job to their fullest.
Suddenly, 50 mg of an SSRI, designed to help the brain retain serotonin due to its relative scarcity, felt like an overdose.
Last Wednesday, on my own, I cut to 25 mg (one pill instead of two, and the dose I was taking a year ago) and made an appointment to see my healthcare provider. Her reaction to the entire thing was along the lines of "Huh, never heard of that -- it makes sense, though!" Hardly a confidence builder, but she agreed to the lower dose.
A week into that lower dose, and it still hits me hard (it's hitting right now, in fact), but it's more like a city bus than a freight train at this point, giving rise to the thought that it's still too much, but cutting down any more suddenly than this is dangerous. Thus, I'm in the peculiar place of feeling overmedicated and in withdrawal at the same time. I'm weakened physically to the point where even a brisk walk around the hospital campus exhausts me utterly. I'm having vivid dreams that occasionally become ripping nightmares. Par for the course, sad to say, and I've been here several times.
So it's another adjustment period, and it's not been pleasant. But the idea that I may have hit on a simple reason for so much of my past stress is heartening in its own way. After two dose increases last year, I was starting to feel pretty darned glum about my situation. Now, it looks like there may be some light at the end of that tunnel after all.
Mostly, it's nice to know that maybe all of this hasn't been in my head, as so many wanted me to believe. The stuff I'm going through now, though, as the brain chemistry resettles yet again -- that IS in my head, and it's frustrating as hell that I can do nothing at this point but wait.
I'm ready to get better now, and waiting is damned hard.
So yeah... that's where I've been.