12 replies to this topic

[goldent]

I blog about writing for a literary magazine, and recently challenged writers to keep writing, even in the midst of their Life Messes. Which means - dangit - I had to take my own advice.

 

So I posted this poem today, about going off Cymbalta... Hoping it resonates with the community here. Let me know-- either here, or in the comments on my blog.

 

And if you try a similar exercise, let me know that too. Thanks everyone, and here's hoping you're feeling well today --

[thismoment]

Goldent I like your poem, thank you.

 

What was it like when your emotion, your human dimension, your muse, your heart, finally came flooding back to you? 

 

Welcome back!

[DinCA]

goldent

Thank you for sharing your poem. ...not just with us...but getting it "out there", as well.  very powerful.  right on the mark.

And thank you for the reminder that even in the "midst of our messes", creativity is is oh-so important (....even when we are afraid and alone, vulnerable, in utter chaos...the darkest night of the soul) ... it is possibly the one door out of this mess...even if it isnt served on a silver platter by our muse.   I poked around in your blog, and am glad I did.  

Like so many ppl here on this site, Cymbalta highjacked my muse within a few months of being on it.  It took her, tied her up, gagged her and threw her in a dark dusty corner somewhere.   I had a million ideas try to be born, but a complete inability to birth them.  By the time I hit the heavy withdrawls, a year later...she was getting free once in a while but  resembled a starved  cat...wild, with claws extended, and when witnessed by others ...it was with wide eyes and an arched eyebrow.  So...I left her there.   I could  feel her in there squirming around trying to find release, trying to escape in my frantic..."mess"of misspelled words, broken thought patterns and unfinished scetches.    But she'd become just another fear to me. 

But after reading your blog, I realized she was sitting right next to me on the couch this morning...in the form of my 2 year old grand daughter...complete with white sparkly tutu, messy hair and hello kitty slippers....an exceptionally bright and curious  little angel who can be so very messy and often frantic ( the eptiome of the terrible twos)...but who also knows NO fear ...like no other child I have ever seen.  

Anyway...thank you. 

[thismoment]

DinCA- Good observation on the return of the muse. It's like a cat that's been stranded on a hostile island. She's back, but there are obvious changes. Clearly, much compassion and some retraining will be necessary.

 

And so it goes for all of our faculties that Cymbalta puts on that island- tenderness, compassion, patience, will. 

 

Maybe that's why I feel like I'm somebody else, even after a year off the drug. On Cymbalta, EVERYTHING is rendered into hypersleep.  And when I wake up in deep space after a 57-year journey, some of the systems and functions of my being need re-tuning, re-calibrating and re-grooving!  

 

I took the Cymbalta because I couldn't function as I was back then, so I don't want to go back to that. Therefore I view the new me as a rebirth. 

[DinCA]

Thismoment

EXACTLY!  on all of it. 

It has been so hard to express to anyone the inner change that has happened.    And honestly I think the ppl in my life are a little sick of hearing about it.  They have had to deal with so much thru all of this.   But it is soooo HUGE for me.  It is very nice to know someone gets it.

 

I agree on the compassion and retraining.  I have decided to let my muse have a free for all this weekend...maybe start to get re-acquainted with her.

 

Your hyper-sleep analogy hits it pretty much on the head.   For me sometimes it is like there were two of me inside this body all my life ….one of them was fast asleep for a very long time, and the other one ran the show. (not that she did a good job of it)   and now one is completely gone…dead….she did not survive the cymbalta…. and the one who is left is a  stranger, waking up and wondering where the hell she is.  …except on some days…some days  there is something tenderly familiar about her. Some one without the walls and masks that I have gathered over the years.  Idk.  Maybe it is just more of the cymbalta talking.  Or the fact that I  am now completely off  of the many other prescriptions I have been taking for so long now.  Or maybe it is just that mid-life thing.  (I hit the 50 mark this month)  Whatever it is,  there has been a profound change  lately.

I cant go back either....I just cant do it.   that part is gone.   And you are so right...it is...or can be a rebirth...and...idk...I'd like to think maybe a second chance.   

Thank you for your post...I cant tell you how nice it was to read ...someone saying what I have been feeling.

[thismoment]

DinCA

 

Be compassionate with your muse for she may colour outside the lines, or stumble on a familiar phrase. Remember, she was in stasis in the chamber beside you. You both will have wobbly knees for a while. 

 

Just from the perspective of 'all experience changes our brains', we have indeed had an experience! And it's been a compound adventure of pharmaceutical chemistry meets brain chemistry. Is the brain physically altered? I think so. Chemical and electrical functions are physical (the brain is a physical system locked into the physical laws of the universe), and if the brain works differently, it's changed.

 

I too disposed of all the other medications in the cabinet when I came off Cymbalta. We can't go back. I don't want to; I can ride this pony.

 

A second chance, a reboot. Best wishes to you!!

[equuswoman]

thank you so much, enjoyed it!

[goldent]

Goldent I like your poem, thank you.

 

What was it like when your emotion, your human dimension, your muse, your heart, finally came flooding back to you? 

 

Welcome back!

Thanks for reading. I just today found your kind replies -- 
I don't know that I felt like my muse/heart left me while on Cymbalta... In fact, it quite helped me write and further immerse myself in my career. (The depression before was debilitating.) But I've certainly felt quite often that it's difficult to trust these experiences to be muse-worthy... The journey of extracting oneself from the worst of Depression, of finding out whether we can survive sans the meds, of getting up and out of withdrawal... It's difficult not to over-edit, not to censor these things, not to pay just a little too much attention to social stigmas.
So -- trying to make this journey of depression - of victories, relapses, withdrawals, all of it - to be a part of my writing: that's a rather terrifying proposition on most days. The silence of depression is staggering. Here's to breaking it. Ya'll keep writing.

[goldent]

goldent

Thank you for sharing your poem. ...not just with us...but getting it "out there", as well.  very powerful.  right on the mark.

And thank you for the reminder that even in the "midst of our messes", creativity is is oh-so important (....even when we are afraid and alone, vulnerable, in utter chaos...the darkest night of the soul) ... it is possibly the one door out of this mess...even if it isnt served on a silver platter by our muse.   I poked around in your blog, and am glad I did.  

Like so many ppl here on this site, Cymbalta highjacked my muse within a few months of being on it.  It took her, tied her up, gagged her and threw her in a dark dusty corner somewhere.   I had a million ideas try to be born, but a complete inability to birth them.  By the time I hit the heavy withdrawls, a year later...she was getting free once in a while but  resembled a starved  cat...wild, with claws extended, and when witnessed by others ...it was with wide eyes and an arched eyebrow.  So...I left her there.   I could  feel her in there squirming around trying to find release, trying to escape in my frantic..."mess"of misspelled words, broken thought patterns and unfinished scetches.    But she'd become just another fear to me. 

But after reading your blog, I realized she was sitting right next to me on the couch this morning...in the form of my 2 year old grand daughter...complete with white sparkly tutu, messy hair and hello kitty slippers....an exceptionally bright and curious  little angel who can be so very messy and often frantic ( the eptiome of the terrible twos)...but who also knows NO fear ...like no other child I have ever seen.  

Anyway...thank you. 

DinCA,

What a lovely note; thank you. I love this description, and the way you've allowed it to emerge via poetry/image. It sounds like you're like a lot of depressed writers: In that you have so much to say, but the saying itself is frightening, or it gets censored before it can get anywhere? From your words here, I would say - My god, the world needs more people like you, narrating your experience, helping the rest of us (and those who don't experience ongoing depression) to get a sense for the myriad ways in which it affects us. If you're not blogging, please snag some of that 2-yr-old's courage and break your silence! I think your community (and this one) would so welcome it. 

[goldent]

DinCA- Good observation on the return of the muse. It's like a cat that's been stranded on a hostile island. She's back, but there are obvious changes. Clearly, much compassion and some retraining will be necessary.

 

And so it goes for all of our faculties that Cymbalta puts on that island- tenderness, compassion, patience, will. 

 

Maybe that's why I feel like I'm somebody else, even after a year off the drug. On Cymbalta, EVERYTHING is rendered into hypersleep.  And when I wake up in deep space after a 57-year journey, some of the systems and functions of my being need re-tuning, re-calibrating and re-grooving!  

 

I took the Cymbalta because I couldn't function as I was back then, so I don't want to go back to that. Therefore I view the new me as a rebirth. 

 

I appreciate this image of retraining, re-calibrating, re-tuning... Helps lift out of the idea of being Stuck. And it empowers us to act --
Thanks thismoment -- such appreciation for your story. Cheers --

[equuswoman]

DinCA

 

Be compassionate with your muse for she may colour outside the lines, or stumble on a familiar phrase. Remember, she was in stasis in the chamber beside you. You both will have wobbly knees for a while. 

 

Just from the perspective of 'all experience changes our brains', we have indeed had an experience! And it's been a compound adventure of pharmaceutical chemistry meets brain chemistry. Is the brain physically altered? I think so. Chemical and electrical functions are physical (the brain is a physical system locked into the physical laws of the universe), and if the brain works differently, it's changed.

 

I too disposed of all the other medications in the cabinet when I came off Cymbalta. We can't go back. I don't want to; I can ride this pony.

 

A second chance, a reboot. Best wishes to you!!

thismoment YES we can ride this pony....Yes, yes indeed. Got my feet in the stirrups ready to continue down that scary road 2 freedom!

[DinCA]

Goldent, thank you. I am so glad that you kept writing thru your experiences.  I, very much, enjoying  reading your articles.  Blogging was once a little secret dream of mine ...maybe it is another one I can "reclaim" post cymbalta.   Not sure I'd know where to start tho. 

 

Thismoment....I totally agree with you....  "all experience changes our brains', we have indeed had an experience!" 

You were also right about my muse, she DID color outside the lines last weekend....And we had soooo much fun. I gave her the same freedom....and smile...that  I would have given my granddaughter for doing the same thing, had she been there "coloring" with us. 

 

I hope all is well with you both.

[Clara]

Ditto to all the above posts!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am a MESS today!!!!!!!!!