Withdrawal Diary

Last night was kind of difficult. I made the dire mistake of once again partaking in social media.  I'm discovering more and more that social media and me don't get along too well.  Lots gets lost in translation, coupled with the fact that people tend to feel emboldened by their anonymity and/or physical distance.  I can be prone to doing this as much as anyone else.  It's the biggest shortcoming of taking part. I'd rather not get into interpersonal details.  I either got hurt or allowed myself to get hurt once again by several - I say 'allowed myself to get hurt' because I subject myself to the situations in the first place.  Sometimes my honesty is brutal, and I try to temper it with a balance to some degree of love, sometimes successfully and sometimes not.  I'll wager that 'not' applies more often than I even realize.  This is to my discredit. This whole mess with the truckers convoy situation in Ottawa has stirred up a whole lot of emotions, and

Boy, this withdrawal stuff is going to be a challenge.   Friday, I was smacked in the face... kind of almost literally... when I went out to shovel off our deck to find our stupid barbecue cover that was blown off the barbecue, thus leaving it exposed to the elements.  Thing is, I neglected doing this for a while now, so a lot of that damn snow was actually ice.  Which equals heart attack snow.  Which equals a lot of panting and exertion (but thankfully, no heart attack).  I've been away from the gym for two weeks because it's been closed due to covid measures.  We were on a roll with going, too.  My wife is down 25 lbs or more since we started back in August, and I didn't really lose any weight, but it makes me feel quite good to exercise.  It clears the mind, and that has a ripple effect with the rest of the body.  It didn't, however, make much of a difference with the quality of my sleep.  I'll take whatever I can get. Anyway, I finally get said damned barbecue c

This is the second day of my complete withdrawal from Zoloft and Wellbutrin.   So far, so good.  I've been off work since April 22 of 2021, when I left work after feeling like I was disintegrating after a hard day.  I just didn't handle hard days very well.  There are things at work I couldn't jibe with, and I won't point fingers.  But I will admit my lack of capacity to handle problems there, where the average person probably could.  In short... there's something very wrong with me. I've been on Zoloft since 1996, and attempted to come off of it many times since.  This would be the umpteenth time I've tried.  But, I have a new arrow in my quiver, named psilocybin, and so far so good.  But it's early. There have been a number of times since April 22 that I've considered suicide, starting with that day, when I damn near did.  In fact, there were many times in '21 where this was the case.  Before blaming any particular workplace, I have to look at