snri

November 8, 2026

I sometimes get frustrated by all the things that I need to do after I get out of bed, and before I can sit down here to do this. Sometimes it paralyzes me in bed, and I linger there under the warm blankets longer than I should. Now that I'm sitting here doing this, after doing all the things; I don't know what to type.

Pills, work, vaccines, therapy and doctor visits are my life right now. I suppose I'm getting shit done. Flu and covid shots last weekend. 3rd Hepatitis AB vax later today. I have had all the shots I can get now I suppose. Covid, flu, shingles, tetanus, and hepatitis all within a year.

Over three weeks now with these pills. Venlafaxine XR 37.5. Selective serotonin norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor. Yesterday was my appointment to reassess the dosage, and to see how things are going. My response to them is pretty typical. Felt like shit at first, and now I don't feel much different, but sort of. Not necessarily better. Just weird. Still just weird. Tired. It has not been long enough to really know for sure how, or if, they are going to help me. Another 30 days at the lowest dose possible. By then I will know more. These pills are a subtle and slow altering of brain chemistry balance. Not like the instantaneous euphoric effects of narcotics, or a few quick shots of whiskey. The waiting to see is annoying.

It makes me think of weight loss and fitness. How when you begin altering eating habits and exercising, there are no results for quite awhile at first. You have to be consistent with it all for days and days, and have faith in the process.

I don't think I'm any more fucked up than I have been since I started thinking. So why now? Why am I getting therapy and taking pills now? Today is day 676 of sobriety, and I'm old(er). I don't have the option of medicating with dangerous amounts of alcohol. Well, I suppose that is not exactly true. The option is always there. But no. Realistically, if I want to continue being alive it is not an option. I think of this as like having strains and injury at 55 compared to at 30 or younger. Strains and injury take longer to heal now. It seems the same with these mental issues, or w'tvr'tf this should be called. Only not like it at all. This is not an achy muscle impairing my range of motion for more days than it used to when I was younger. I can work through that. This thing has become too much. I can't get over it. Or work through it. I don't even really know what IT is. I am not out of, or in control. Constantly tripping and stumbling but never falling. I need help, so I'm getting help.