Ok, I’m not on a boat. But I made a little, itty bitty, mistake last night, and spent the afternoon feeling like I was on a boat. Or drunk. Or Captain Jack Sparrow. Or maybe all three.
I take my antidepressants at night, somewhere between brushing my teeth and taking my contacts out. I’m also REALLY good about remembering to take them, because if I don’t, well, come noon the following day, I get that “I’m on a boat” feeling. I remember looking down at the bottle. And I also remember telling myself, “as soon as I’m done brushing my teeth, I’m going to take that. But, that bottle is weird. It normally doesn’t come in the original packaging. Usually they put it in the typical meds bottle. I wonder why they didn’t this time. Wow, we’re almost out of contact solution…” and that’s probably how I managed to forget.
Justin had the day off, and had asked me out to lunch in the most romantic way ever:
“Sam, what are you doing Friday?”
“Teaching water aerobics. What are you doing?”
“I want Song’s.”
I coerced a couple of people to come in and guard the rest of my shift, and after jumping around on the pool deck for an hour, while old ladies complained about basically everything I did (they are little rays of sunshine. Actually, they’re more like dark, nasty rainclouds who think you can talk to young people with sass and attitude. I’m fighting the good fight and really trying to kill them with kindness). And then it was off to lunch!
Justin and I rarely go out to eat, but when we do, there’s this little Korean restaurant with the most amazing food. It’s so spicy, I feel like my face is melting and I can breathe fire. But it is SO good. About the time we were finishing our meals, I looked over at Justin and suddenly that wavy-weird feeling started coming over me. “Oh Justin. I think I forgot to take my anti-depressant last night. Please remind me to take it when we get home.”
As if any reminding was necessary. Home again, anti-depressant taken, I laid down on the couch with the puppies, hoping that weird feeling would go away.
I watched Justin be a rad housewife, as he folded the 5 baskets of laundry that were hanging out in front of the couch (I don’t want to talk about it). Every now and then I called out, “I’m on a boat!” Because, I basically was. Not really, but the feeling is so bizarre.
These drugs reduce my need to scream at every person I meet. They also make me much less paranoid and self-conscious. Which is a good thing, because they ALSO make me super sweaty. I was a sweaty girl to begin with, but like Emeril, these really kick it up a notch. I’ve accepted it. Probably because we spent 3 years of our married life living in Georgia, where if you aren’t sweating, it’s probably a sign that you’re suffering from heat stroke.
I fell asleep watching tv (and had bizarre and horrifyingly weird/realistic dreams, again, thanks to antidepressant withdrawal). By the time I woke up, the laundry was mostly folded, Justin was playing with his new watch, and I was no longer on a boat. I no longer wanted to walk around with my hands out, Jack Sparrow style. So, I headed to the pool to get some work done. It’s good to be off the boat. I hate feeling weird.
Lies. I always feel weird. I hate feeling chemically weird. It’s a good thing I RARELY forget to take them-maybe 6 times a year. I might forget to shower, put clothes on, get my housework done, but I almost ALWAYS remember my antidepressants. If I want to feel wavy-weird, I’ll spin around and make myself dizzy. And If I want to feel like I’m on a boat, I’ll find a boat and get on it.
