September 21st, 2011 | Author: trancejen
The family down the street from us has a cute little black kitten they’re trying to get rid of, and the mom has been Facebooking me about it.
I don’t want it, but it’s so cute and fluffy and tiny, and ooh it would fit in so perfectly with the two black cats I already have, and man, it’s so teeny and cute, and GOD I WANT IT.
I am an adult with some modicum of self-control, though, so I answered her, “Sorry. It’s adorable, but no thank you.”
Then she said something I did not expect. “Didn’t the J-Man lose his cat fairly recently? I’ll bet he would just love a kitten.”
AW MAN WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME LIKE THAT AND GO AND HIT ME SQUARE IN THE MOM?
That was fucking dirty pool, lady.
So I will bet you a whole dollar that the J-Man winds up at their house this week, and I will bet you another whole dollar that he will be on my doorstep clutching a beautiful black kitten, both of them with eyes as big as saucers, whimpering, “MOM CAN WE KEEEEEEP HERRRR?”
And I will cave. Because that is me. And then I will have to have a six-hour fight with my mother and Jim.
Damned kittens.
In other news, you all know that I loathe the Demon Med Effexor and would no more use it or discontinue it again than I would eat my own liver (with some fava beans and a nice Chianti).
So what did I do years later but start another SNRI, Cymbalta, which has pretty much the same effect and the same gnarly discontinuation syndrome?
I live a very cyclical life. I just repeat all the same mistakes over and over and over again. As a matter of fact, if you look up “idiot” in your Webster’s dictionary, you will find me grinning back at you.
I tapered slowly down off of the Cymbalta just like the shrink told me to while starting the Viibryd, believing with all my hopeful little heart that this would make all the difference.
See also: Idiot.
I am having brain zaps like a motherfucker. I feel like someone is taking a taser to my occipital lobe. It’s insane.
If you’re not familiar with SNRI or SSRI discontinuation syndrome, Google it sometime. It’s interesting stuff that they certainly don’t tell you about when they hand out anti-depressants like fucking Smarties on Halloween.
I can’t even drink coffee for fear of hurling my lungs up. No coffee? Why live?
Hopefully this won’t last long, and I feel so good from the Viibryd that it’s worth going through a little shit getting off of the Cymbalta.
In other news, the J-Man’s grades are STELLAR so far this year. I could not be more pleased.
Just don’t tell me to get him a kitten as a reward or I’ll send you all my leftover Cymbalta.
Happy Wednesday.
Don’t think of the kittn as a reward. Think of it an incentive for him to continue doing well because if he doesn’t, the kitten goes bye-bye. Let’s face it, the fun part of being a parent is making sure the kids have good stories to tell the shrinks later in life (or at least that was my mom’s theory).
I think that’s my parents’ theory, too. That, or “Let’s see how much we can fuck with her.” LOL
And don’t talk me into that kitten! We have FOUR, Michael!!! FOUR!!!
Soft kitty, warm kitty, little bar of fur. Soft kitty, warm kitty, purr, purr, purr.
ball, not bar. DAMN YOU FINGERS
LMAO!!!
cymbalta made me dizzy every time i stood up, to the point i fell to the ground and tunneled out TWICE within 1 hour! i quit it cold turkey….NOT RECOMMENDED! i couldn’t walk a straight line and was afraid to drive. i’m sure i’d never have passed a field sobriety test (not that i could pass one anyway due to severe arthritis)!
I love the Cymbalta. It has been the only AD to help me. It works for four different conditions I have and I like taking 1 pill over 4. I’m worried if I ever have to go off of it because while I forgot to take it for four days I didn’t have brain zaps but I did have some heart issues. Like my heart FORGOT to beat regularly.
There is the cutest black with white whiskers, feral kitten that has shown up in my yard. I named him/her Stevie knowing full well that the first step to owning is naming. The kittens I got when I was the J-man’s age lived until I was in my late twenties! He can take it with him when he moves out.
You guys are SO NOT HELPING.
Me, the Cymbalta helped me a lot at first, too. The problem is that I build up a tolerance to some of these medications really quickly and they outlive their usefulness. I was on a very high dose near the end and it was doing nothing for me but providing side effects, so it was definitely time to switch. I’m hoping I will see different results with the Viibryd.
Good luck with weaning from the Cymbalta. Sounds like the Viibryd might be a good match for you – I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
I can’t even look at kittens lest they end up in my home. Be strong and resist. And, look away. (Never look a kitten in the eye – that’s how they hypnotize you.)
Cymbalta is some scary medication and like you I speak from experience. The brain zaps were the WORST side effect of course. It felt like my brain was sloshing around inside my head everytime I stood up or turned my head. Awful awful. It also made me emotionally numb. No laughing, crying, depression, excitement, etc. Nothing at all! I turned into a block of breathing wood that had the ability to walk and talk a bit, but that’s pretty much it. Glad you are off the stuff now. It’s some bad Ju-Ju. As for the kitten? They grow into cats that shit and piss and fight with other cats and need to be fixed and have big vet bills, food bills…am I getting through here darlin’? Just say ‘NO’ to the small cat. Enjoy the cats that you do have in your home and smother them in love until their shedding fur makes you crazy. Loving you dear !
John in Tucson
So can I assume resistance was futile and you ended up with a cuddly widdle kitten? What’s its name?