“Honey? Have I been acting crazy?” You know it’s not a good day when this is how your wife greets you as you walk in the door, fresh off a long day at the office. (When did my life become a cliche? Don’t answer that.) Although I daresay it beats out “Both toilets are clogged and we only have one plunger!” or “I started out the day with four kids but at the moment only three are accounted for!” or even “I’M FINISHED. IT’S YOUR TURN.” All of which he has also heard. My poor husband; it’s a wonder he even opens the door anymore. So I tried to wait patiently as he considered my question. “Okay, fine. Have I been crazier than usual?” The short answer – backed up by some of my friends as well – is: yes.
The problem with acting crazy is that part of the crazy is that it doesn’t feel crazy. (You still following me? It’s like the time Daniel killed Tyler but Jack got framed and so Sammy went to Emily because he’s the only one who knows she’s really Amanda and all of this could be cleared up if Sammy could just tell everyone who she really is! Except that Sammy’s a dog. And if you just followed that then you are a Revenge geek, bless you.) Anyhow, all my crazy feelings – based in reality or not – feel legitimate, hence all my responses feel logical. Even if they’re not. One of the great things about me however is that I do have a pretty good notion of when I am crazy. Even if I can’t explain why.
Rewind to about a month ago when I went to the pharmacy to pick up my monthly supply of anti-depressant pills. “These might look a little different because we switched manufacturers,” the tech told me as he handed me my baggie of fun. “But I promise they’re the same meds. Same doseage and everything.” I shrugged, trying to appear like I’m not high maintenance. “Ok, no biggie.”
[Insert 3.5 weeks of mood swings, overt sensitivity, body image crises, “fat days”, worst period in a year, irritability and way too many nobody-likes-me pity parties.]
You may have noticed? The crazy does tend to bleed out into my blog as much as I wish it didn’t.
Finally, last week as I was popping my morning pill it occurred to me that my onset of nuttier-than-normal coincided with the changing of my pills. But it couldn’t be possible. I mean, different manufacturers maybe but it’s got to be the same basic drug recipe, right? Chillingly, the answer is no. It turns out there’s no master Big Pharma Family Cookbook and each drug manufacturer develops their own formulations. Sure they’re based on the same chemicals but they’re not identical.
I called the pharmacist who kindly explained to me that my sensitivity to the slight differences in the formulations was not unheard of and actually not all that rare. “Did you Google it?” he asked, apparently forgetting that I’m the same person he specifically instructed never to Google her symptoms after the great Birth Control Debacle of ’09. Well I did then and found hundreds of stories of people experiencing the same insanity I am. While 1,000 internet anecdotes don’t make it true, I think they definitely make a case.
Pill bottle in hand, I marched myself back into the pharmacy and demanded my old pills back. Thankfully they still had some in stock and switched them out for free. The tech told me he’d put a note on my file as to which generic manufacturer I preferred. However, when I asked why I couldn’t just have the real drug, as made by the original manufacturer, he told me that no insurance would cover it anymore and unless I was willing to pay $300 out of pocket every month then I was stuck with one of the generics.
Insurance reform, please. Now.
I’ve been back on the new-old pills for about 5 days now and haven’t noticed a huge difference yet but that’s the bear about anti-depressants – they take 3-6 weeks to kick in. So it looks like I’ll be white-knuckling it through the next month or two. Upside: At least now I know that my pills really are doing something for me? My apologies in advance. Now that I know what’s going on I’ll try to keep a lid on the insanity but like I said at the beginning, it all feels real to me so please have patience with me while I try to sort it all out. There may be too many Kardashian jokes, is what I’m saying.
Any of you had an experience like this? I never realized that drugs could be called the same thing and not actually be the same thing! Any advice for me? Any other die-hard Revenge lovers out there?? (They can’t cancel it! Noooo!)