Colour
Supplement
Articles
by contemporary writers
Sunday August
6 2006
Depression
part 3: highs and lows
By
Gordon Atkinson

I
still can't remember the name of my medication.
What's up with that? Okay, I went and got the
bottle. I'm holding it right now.
Imipramine.
I was right; it does begin with an I.
I'm pretty sure the emphasis is on the second
syllable, (Em-IP-rah-mean) but I like
emphasizing the third syllable so that it sort
of sounds like “Gimme Praline.”
But I digress.
Anyway, the plan is: 25 mg. for a week, 50 mg.
for a week, then 75 mg. for two weeks. The
doctor warned me that I might not notice
anything until week three.
I finished the first week. I felt no effects
other than the dry mouth that I've already
mentioned. I began the 50 milligram dose on a
Tuesday. That night I slept until morning for
the first time since January. I don't think I've
mentioned that I've been waking up every morning
between 4am and 5am, my stomach churning with
anxiety and panic.
Wednesday I felt strange all day. Periodically I
would feel a heaviness in my neck and shoulders
and get a shot of adrenaline in my gut. I would
find myself flinching, waiting for the wave of
sadness to hit, but it never did. I had mild
anxiety, but I felt... I don't know... sort of
even, I guess.
Thursday the anxiety was gone, and I think I
lived through my first normal day in recent
memory. I felt good all day. I did my work and
was happy to do it. I went home and was happy to
see the family.
Friday I was so happy that I worried I might be
in a manic state. It even seemed like the
colours at the church were brighter. I actually
stopped on the way into the building to look in
amazement at how green and pretty the plants
were. I couldn't believe how good it felt not to
be anxious and sad.
I knew that Friday night would be the big test.
Friday night and Sunday morning are the two
times of the week when I really get down. Friday
night is supposed to be family night at our
house. Well, it used to be. Lately it's been,
“Mope around, ignore people, make no plans, let
the evening slip away, and get even more
depressed” night.
When I walked up to our front door on Friday
evening, I was so happy to see everyone. I even
went outside and played catch with Reiley,
something that she dearly loves and something we
haven't done in a long time. And here's the
thing: I WANTED TO DO IT. I do not remember the
last time I actually wanted to do anything like
that. Sometimes I play with the kids because I
know I'm supposed to, but this time I wanted to.
Wanting to be with people is so wonderful! I had
forgotten what that feels like.
Then came Saturday. I woke up feeling a little
anxious. By Sunday my anxiety was back. Monday
and Tuesday were pretty bad days. For about 24
hours, unless I was asleep, I was feeling
butterflies in my stomach. It was the kind of
intense anxiety you feel if you are about to get
into a fight, or be audited by the IRS, or face
some other terrible and dreaded thing. But there
was no reason to be anxious.
At one point I paced around the house saying,
“There is nothing to be anxious about.” over and
over. But that never works.
I felt particularly strange since this kind of
free-floating anxiety normally leads me into a
very depressed and saddened state of mind.
First, I withdraw from all relationships. For
some reason it makes me feel worse to talk to
people. Then I start looking for my escapes. The
computer, a movie, sleep, anything to get my
mind off how I am feeling.
But I only felt the anxiety. The wave of
depression never hit. I was able to tell myself
that my body was still getting used to the
medicine. I was able to tell myself not to trust
what I was feeling. Saying that out loud helped.
And there was evening, and there was morning,
the fourteenth day.
The following Tuesday night I went to 75
milligrams.

PART FOUR OF THIS SERIES WILL BE PUBLISHED HERE
NEXT WEEK (13/08/06). TO READ PARTS ONE
AND TWO PLEASE VISIT THE
COLOUR
SUPPLEMENT ARCHIVE
Gordon Atkinson is pastor of Covenant Baptist
Church in San Antonio, Texas and has his own
excellent website
www.reallivepreacher.com. We are most
grateful to Gordon for his permission to
reproduce his essays
here.
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