As a longtime serious fan of self-determination, my current situation is disconcerting. My belief has always been that it’s been a willingness to work hard and be organized that allowed me to accomplish my goals. Recent events suggest that the role of my will in all this is smaller than is comfortable to admit. Maybe all that stuff before was simply the way my brain is wired and how my brain chemistry works, and is more an accident of birth and fate than anything I bring to the table.
These thoughts arise now because my brain isn’t working. I haven’t had a creative thought in days. Doing the routine stuff works fine. Answering email works fine. What isn’t working is connecting any dots, taking any leaps or thinking any new thoughts. This is, of course, on top of not being able to read or follow a sustained fictional narrative, so my lifetime reading habit is on a long hiatus, and my ability to concentrate seems diminished. It’s all frustrating. And then, the perspective clicks back in and I count my blessings and try to refocus on what is possible and enjoy those parts, hoping all the while that this situation will resolve itself in due time and more of what I’m missing will reappear.
As you can see, I’m back to working on my patience and grace. I get that these trial-and-error experiments in brain chemistry balancing are part of a process and should help in the long run. So we persevere. In the tapering regime, I’m down to two days a week of the large (5 mg) dose and the rest of the week take the 2.5 mg dose. Even on the 5 mg days, my energy gives out relatively early and my usual interest (ok, drive) in getting things done is AWOL. This is a mismatch with both my own desires and the commitments hanging out there needing to be met. Still, the overall theory makes sense so over and over we conclude that it’s worth staying the course.
That is all intellectual rationalization. The way it feels is not so great. I don’t recall being this restive with the process for quite some time--back to the complaining spurt, lo these many months ago. That feeling, one I didn’t much like, is still fresh enough to compare to this one. Yech.
Shea continues to thrive at college, Kearney loves her research and our lives here are very good ones, especially when I’m awake and alert. My class this semester is a lively and fun group. My new colleagues are welcoming and interesting. The sun is shining and the weather is glorious. My walks to and from my office are a pleasure most of the time, especially when I plan things well enough that I’m not trying to tote the entire contents of my office back and forth. There’s much to be grateful for. We’re focusing on that. This, too, shall pass, I figure.