Postpartum depression brought about a few years of Zoloft. (You can read more about that HERE.) I have no complaints. It's been a gift. I needed it, I've been taking it, it's been terrifically helpful, and now I'm ready to go off it. It's a weaning process, though, so I figured I'd do a little updating as I work through it.
I mean, do you want more detail than that?
Fine, but my writing will likely feel peevish, because I feel peevish.
I went to the doctor yesterday and discussed, among other things, weaning off my meds. He put me on half the dose I had been taking before and I started that this morning.
Now, in fairness, everyone could just be extra irritating today. People and pets can be jackasses. Chances are slim that they do it in unison, though, so I think it's probable that I'm the issue.
So far today, I've threatened to rip off the dogs limbs and beat her with them, I'm on the verge of sending her to the pound for digging up the tree I just planted this afternoon then adding insult to injury by traipsing through the house (including on my furniture) with her muddy paws; I've called my husband at work requesting a stiff drink when he gets home (I don't drink "stiff" and very rarely drink at all); I feel so tense my body is literally vibrating and my jaws are clenched tighter than usual; and my 4-year-old son has twice given me advice on how to destress - "Maybe you need sprinkles. Sprinkles always make me feel better when I'm grumpy" and "Try to think of happy things like rainbows and ponies and happy robots."