You, loyal reader, may have noticed a bit of a decrease in the output here at Paul’s Letters. I wish I could say that I have been out curing Ebola, taking the fight to ISIS, etc. but the truth is, the past few days I’ve just sort of come unmoored. It’s a bit of a strange feeling. Unlike depression, where the most obvious symptoms are feelings of deep sadness, occasional crying, etc., detachment is noticeable from the lack of obvious symptoms. I can’t tell you I’ve been feeling sad lately, because I really haven’t. I haven’t really been happy or euphoric either. Just kind of… Meh. I turned down two invitations to go out this week to dinner, each time making an excuse about cleaning around the house that needed doing, or laundry. The truth is I was, for lack of a better word, content to just sit at home and do nothing.
When I met with my therapist today we talked about the detachment. I told her it felt like life was going on around me at 1.5x the normal speed for our species. She has seen this before in a few patients, like me, who are on 200 mg/day of Zoloft (or its generic equivalent). She used the phrase “Zoloft zombies,” and I didn’t take it unkindly since it’s actually not a bad description. I’m functioning, doing the big things like going to work, but it’s as though someone has turned my dial down to 3. I don’t get too sad, excited, upset or happy. I just kind of am there, watching the world pass by. Maybe a lawn gnome is a more accurate description, but it lacks the built-in alliteration of Zoloft Zombie.
So what am I going to do about it? Well, we discussed scaling back the 200 mg/day to 100. We’ll monitor how I’m feeling. If that doesn’t seem to be effective we can try some other drugs. In the mean-time… BRAAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNNSSSS