The One Where I DON'T Stab People In The Brain With An Ice Pick

So, I'm off Cymbalta.  Off, off.  Done.  As in, I told the folks down at CVS they can keep their $6/day death pills, because I want to have a little more control over my symptoms. Even if it means all the pain relief I was getting will be gone. 

Which it is.  Pain? Back like a crazy stalker ex-boyfriend, with the same amount of passion and persistence.

And, because I couldn't get my latest primary to call me back, and guide me through the step down, I muddled through it myself, as those of you that hang on my every word will remember.

I was thrilled to not have the agonizing headaches that everyone online spoke of.

I was super stoked about getting off, and I seemed to be able to talk myself off the ledge when I was feeling like the only thing the people around me were missing was an ice pick to the eyeball.  I could be all, "Aimee, you're getting off the crazy juice, it'll be okay.  Put down the ice pick".  And that worked, mostly.

I also got kicked off my antibiotics, for the first time since January, because of eye issues.  Namely, every time I change my focus, like from a person to the TV to the wall to the computer screen, I would get a teensy bit dizzy.  (Currently, I'm at Day 15 of the dizzies, btw.  They are getting better, but not gone.  Or, I'm used to them.  Whatev.)

So, I'm detoxing, almost done.  Down 9 pounds.  Liver should be doing a happy dance (I recently got some labs that showed that my liver is pretty pissed off right now.  Not sure where to go with that, because just about everything I take taxes my liver.  Not to mention the wine.  Oh, GOD, the wine....).  But, I REALLY want to sometimes, occasionally, violently, persistently drive my car into the side of a building, especially if people that are pissing me off are hanging out in front of the building. And, I have tears building up in my eyes, pretty much constantly.  And not only during sappy commercials. 

I can't think straight (even less straight than normal), I'm not making sense even to myself.  So, Dr. Google and I have a little chat.

Seems that, coming of Cymbalta?  Pretty fucking epic.  All kinds of crazy shit happens.  It's like Big Pharma decided, "take our pills, please!  In facts, have a month on us!  But don't give them up, because we will fuck your world.  You will NEVER give us up, NEVER!"  Without the Rick Roll, I promise you.

(BTW, have you guys seen the Mad Men Rick Roll?  Fucking awesomesauce.  Truly.

Right?)

Anyway, these can be the symptoms of going off Cymbalta (they even have a fancy name for it, SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome) (I was super helpful to your eyeballs by only listing the symptoms I have, you're welcome):

•  Brain zaps-these can be like vertigo, or a dizzy feeling, and can completely throw off your thought process.  A true joy, I can assure you, especially when speaking to a group professionally.
• Dizziness
• Eye and vision problems (!!!!!)
• Agitation and anxiety
• Hostility
• Worsening of depressive symptoms
• Sudden-onset dyslexia 

And some other shit, that HAS to be related.  Gah.

Phew.  It's been a hell of a week, right?  Top it off with Sky King being gone for a field trip, and me having to work excessively for three days straight, and I'm borderline homicidal. And weepy.  Which, as I am sure you can imagine, one of my favorite qualities in myself.

My saving grace?  I recently met a fellow Lymie, I will call her D, that has had tons of success treating her Lyme with natural treatments.  And, while I was in the middle of trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, she popped up online.  Our convo was like this:

Her: What's up? Sorry, had a computer break for a few days...
Me: No worries.  I'm in the doldrums, I'm thinking it's from coming off Cymbalta, did you have this when you kicked it?
Her: Yep!  5HTP, you need it.
Me: :::consults Dr. Google for contraindications::: Awesome.  I need something, because I'm a wreck.
Her:  here's my number, check in in a few days, let me know how you're doing
Me: k. Thanks.

I hit a few more sites, looking for things that will help me feel less stabby, while NOT shriveling my liver like a 5-year-old-raisin under the couch.

This is what I found:
Bach Flower remedies.  Way back when, I worked in a few health food stores, soaking in the hippie-patchouli-granola vibe.  And everyone was totally down with the Bach Flower remedies, especially Rescue Remedy.  But, I didn't think some diluted flower juice would help me with shit.

Today, I was desperate.  And since the looney bin doesn't have a weekend drop box like the Pound, I thought it was worth a shot.

I careened on down to the local Hippie shop, and picked up some goodies: Rescue Remedy, Mustard Remedy, and 5HTP.  The girl at the counter was gabbing about Rescue Remedy and it helping her with anxiety, like, MINUTES after taking it.

So I got in the swagger wagon, and ripped that shit open like a junkie after a score. Drop, drop, drop.

And here I am, 2 hours later.  Feeling a teensy bit serene.  Certainly less homicidal. And, if things keep going this way, I might follow up with all my birthday celebrating I have planned for this upcoming week, I probably won't kill anyone this month, and I will likely attend my awesome vacation at the end of the month that I have been planning for over a year.  The trip I have wanted to cancel for a few days now.  Yep, it's been THAT seriously shitty. 

This shit? Not for the faint of heart.