Who knows whether it’s pain or whether it’s higher amounts of stress and general dissatisfaction with life, but I’m now officially having a “depressive episode.”
It was addressed with my therapist yesterday when I confessed I just felt like sleeping, didn’t wanna hang out with my family, was avoiding connecting with friends, and tearfully explained that I had been off of antidepressants since last autumn. It’s quite possible—I concede—that I have been able to coast through myriad life moments and experiences without the meds these many months, but now here I am and I’m low, low, low. And sinking lower.
How happy do we deserve to be?
Let alone existential depression. Let alone ketamine therapy. Let alone psychedelic medicine. What do you do when you find yourself ruminating about options?
Well, no, I’m not thinking of offing myself, I told her, but I’m having ideation.
Mine looks like this.
“Hmm, I don’t want to be murdered…”
She was visibly concerned and pointed out that this was a major downhill shift since our last chat about a month ago.
I’m so in it I hadn’t noticed. When you’re “in it” it feels like you’ve always been in it. That’s what I love my therapist. She reminds me of Reality.
So we’re having some kind of come to Jesus with the psych nurse and the clinical team. We’ll see what comes out of it. I know I have choices. My preference is not to go back on a cocktail of antidepressants and ongoing dry mouth, constipation and a state of psychological neutrality that still left me wondering why on earth anybody cares about living.
I’m also seeking out a psilocybin facilitator. Been growing more interested in that direction while also keeping an eye on new ketamine therapy options coming my way via Mindbloom.
For stabilization purposes, however, I may have to consider a return to pharma.
Navigating the psychedelic medicine universe as a sober person