I always win

It's an overdue post, but since I'm already up with insomnia, here is an update on my vacation to area code 807 . You know you're in northwestern Ontario when you start seeing Robin's Donuts stores. Here's a shot of my take-out Robin's coffee early in the morning of July 20th, on the Trans-Canada Highway just west of White River. 1800 km from Toronto, and this is far as Mrs. Viggen* can take me. My family's cabin is another few kilometres by boat. Note the gorgeous Red Pine . The sound of the wind flowing through its needles is beyond calming. * my car's nickname The Bald Eagle population is thriving. The view from my bedroom window. I had a great time. Unfortunately, when I came back to Toronto, there was a total shitstorm at work, and I've been trying to recover ever since. Increased dosages of anti-depressants are helping, as is a strong ethic of "I don't give a fuck."

This week, I saw the Neville Park "mini-ravine" for the first time. I was driving down Victoria Park Avenue to meet a friend in the Beaches neighbourhood. Vic Park gets very quiet and residential down by the lake. It jogs slightly to the east at Bracken Avenue... and that's where I had to stop and take a look. In front of me was a landscape I had never seen before, yet it was strangely familiar. I've had a recurring dream about an almost exact replica of this beautiful, south-facing, tree-lined ravine. The light was poor, but I took a photo anyway. You can see Lake Ontario in the background. On my way back home, I got this shot of downtown Toronto on Kingston Road, just east of Woodbine. Again... not the best light. I shot several, but my hands were freezing and the best vantage point was in the middle of the road. Once home, I did this: It's basically the same thing I've done with this blog. I haven't quit or bailed on it for...

This week, I switched to 5 mg from 10 mg. Yesterday, I bawled like a baby during the end of The Simpsons episode where Homer meets his mother (voiced by Glenn Close) only to have to say goodbye to her again when the authorities give chase... me = wreck I've also been sick with bronchitis. This scares me: what kind of bronchial bacteria sets up house in a body that has been taking amoxicillin for two weeks? (Answer: the kind that kicks your ass .)

I was asleep earlier tonight, but my brain rebooted and I've been up for three hours. I'm now waiting for the Ativan to kick in. Today (Tuesday) was the shrink visit I referred to in last week's post . I adore my psychiatrist--he is beyond supportive. We decided on option B : discontinuing anti-depressants for a while, and having a look at my life with a clear head... without the Celexa cancelling out the noise. I think I need to hear the noise. And yes, I was truthful about my Skylab-falling-on-head fantasies. So I'm tapering off the dosage and should be SSRI-free by the end of March. I was in the hospital again on Monday, with a swollen left hand and a low-grade fever. My grouchy cat had taken a swipe at me a few days earlier and apparently infected my hand. It had become extremely sore, and I couldn't close my hand, make a fist, or type. Goddamned cat. I'm on amoxicillin + clavulanic acid for two weeks. Five pills later and the swelling is almost gone. A n...

I'm meeting with my shrink next week. Should I... a) press for a change in anti-depressant medication, so that I am able to continue in my nowhere job for X more years? b) advocate discontinuing anti-depressants, in the hope that I am knocked off my 'complacency can' and prompted to give my life the hard re-evaluation it so desperately needs? c) ask for a renewal of weekly visits? d) b and c Feel free to weigh in.