InsaneJournal

This little pill in my hand that keeps the pain laughing

This weekend was Gay Pride in Chicago but I didn’t end up going to any of the events.  .  There weren’t any signs posted about being on the float so I didn’t get to be in the parade like last year.  I didn’t even get to go to the parade because I had work and of course I wasn’t exactly in a celebratory mood either yesterday or today.  

First, let me explain the situation with my medication.

I’ve been off Effexor entirely for over a week and am now taking just 60 mg of Cymbalta each day.  A couple of weeks ago my brother-in-law had suggested that my tendency to shut down and isolate may have as much to do with over-medication as it does with depression and I think he might have been right.  I feel much more alert and engaged in the world around me now that I’m taking less medication but I’m also much more sensitive and volatile. 

At the beginning of the week I did some painting for the first time in ages and actually finished up my sister Vienna’s Christmas gift which I’d sketched out back in December but never completed.  On Saturday morning I rode my bike over to her condo to give it to her.  During the course of the visit the subject of my behavior at the MBA graduation party for her sister-in-law Staci came up.  This was a small party, mainly family except for Staci’s boyfriend (who she’s only been seeing for a couple months) and a guy who works with her. 

I was very nervous about attending but I decided to make the effort and when I got there I ended up drinking about 4 glasses of wine (I will say in my defense that at least one of them was much less than a full glass, probably only 2 or 3 ounces).  As a result of this drinking I talked much more and much more expressively than I would have otherwise and Vienna was very much not pleased with some of the things I said—mainly allusions to my eating disorder and mental health problems and a remark that I wasn’t interested in having a relationship, I’d just like someone I could call to come over and have sex when I felt like it. 

Vienna sort of pointed out all the things I’d said wrong and told me that she had been embarrassed and more or less scolded me for drinking too much. 

It was almost something I’d expected.  I’d spent the last session with my therapist going over the exact same things Vienna mentioned but we’d ended up agreeing that I need to let myself make mistakes and that I shouldn’t obsess over what I’d done wrong or feel guilty and that these things weren’t that big a deal and that is was positive that I’d attended the party despite my anxieties and been able to interact…

I still got really upset.  Being told my family members that I’ve embarrassed them always cuts me right to the core.  When I was in high school my father used to bludgeon me on an almost daily basis with what an embarrassment I was to him, how my clothes and my grades and my conduct were a reflection on him and I was making him look bad and humiliating him in front of the other teachers. 

It just really upset me, to the point where I started crying.  My 6 year old nephew and 3 year old niece were there.  Luckily I don’t think they noticed because they were playing with their tricycles across the room but I really feel bad about losing it in front of the kids like that. 

Even after I left, I was still really distraught.  I kept tearing up and having crying jags for the rest of the day including at work.  Today I got through work without incident but I felt drained and very sad. 

I can’t blame Vienna for this; my reaction has been completely disproportionate to what she’d said to me (which was nothing I hadn’t already said to myself).  This makes me think (hope) it might have something to do with the medication because it seems like the only other possibility is that I’m just weak.