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In the evidence of its brilliance.

Antidepressants suck. And not the good way. Oh, they do their job. They keep you cool and from freaking out too often. They allow your mind to stay put and not wonder around ceaselessly all the stuff that's going on on your mind (and the stuff you do make up, I admit). But they totally fuck up your libido.
I should know. I've been taking the damn pills for a month now (and I mean a month with the damn side effects, I am in my second refill..). And I am almost dead to the world. And I say almost because there are still flashes of the old me once in awhile. But mostly I've been subdued and I have not had sex at all in awhile. I THINK about sex, but from the thought to the deed there always seems to be a wide lake that I don't want to wade.

I read it was one of the side effects (along with some other stuff) but I decided to go for it (following the advice of some cyber- and RT friends and my doctor) given that I was seriously freaking out due to stress from ... life? Stress is nothing new for me (duh! after you have been through grad school you know that's true) but this time it's been even more serious. Too many things (life, work, love, family) at the same time and my coping mechanisms were exhausted. And when the homeopathic remedies did not seem to dam the emotions and control the depression, on with the chemical paradise.

A little bit 'Valley of the Dolls' for me, but it's worked. It fucked me up the first week (shakes, absentmindedness, dry mouth, difficult to sleep) but then it kind of got me into a rhythm of less worry and more focus. And less mojo. I have found these chemicals do not hinder your penchant for thinking about sex. But your ability to act on those thoughts gets severely diminished. It's like you feel you are hungry, you remember your favorite food, but when you are actually at the table, you discover you appetite is gone or that your attention has shifted. Also, that it is much more difficult to actually make yourself sit at the table (so to speak) and even to pay attention to the person eating with you (if you catch my drift).

So I have resorted to coping with it. I have tried to channel my energy in other directions (trying to work more and better and trying to focus on my relocation plans) but still, I feel frustrated. I feel like there's something missing, you know? That feeling you have when you remember you had to do something but cannot place it? That feeling that is not always in the front of your thoughts but keeps coming back from time to time? That's what I feel.

Not that I feel incomplete (well, a little) or upset (well, a little sad maybe) or disoriented (well, somehow) but more like I don't recognize myself. It's like when you just had a radical haircut and they show you that new 'you': you know it's you but somehow it's not. It takes you awhile to familiarize yourself with that person looking back at you from the mirror. I guess it'll take me time. I guess it may affect me in other ways (like wondering about when my libido will be back). But meanwhile, I'll just sit and relax. And watch. Because watching makes me remember what it felt like to abandon yourself to your instincts and desires. And it may be that lust is like riding a bicycle: you never forget how to do it.

Hopefully, that's my case. Meanwhile, there's the cornucopia of images of the 'net to keep me busy. And remembering...


  1. ¡Acordate!
    ¡Qué nerrrrrrrrrvios!

    Abrazos mágicos y púrpuras, desde el otro lado del Atlántico.



  3. Pero si es sólo un mes... ¿y qué diablos es un mes o un poco más, comparado con una vida llena de erecciones y sexo satisfactorio?, no te preocupes, más bien asume esto como un trance budista en el que decidiste desprenderte de todos tus deseos para encontrarte a tí mismo, no sé si los antidepresivos ayuden a alcanzar el nirvana... pero cómo ayudan.

    Un abrazototote

  4. he querido tomarme algo que me saque de mi lejana galaxia... pero me da miedo.
    por cierto.... amo esas imagenes que has puesto! son divinas!


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