Initial Side Effects of Lamictal…and a Long Overdue Rant

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have been the unfortunate recipient of a number of tweets yesterday evening that contained almost epic levels of ranting. I had written an entire post for this blog on A’s iPad, which, whilst better for typing than our iPhones, is not as conducive to creating lengthy prosaic lamentations as a proper keyboard. Unfortunately for me, I’m in my laptop-phobia zone this week, and to that end only the iPad and the iPhone are safe for use (don’t ask for an explanation of this fatuity, because I don’t have one. Maybe I’ve simply grown to hate Windross so much that I fear even seeing it. Time to put Debian on the laptop, perchance).

Anyhow, I was a complete moron and decided to use the Blogpress iOS app to aid me in this ignoble endeavour. Just as I had finished, with the usual laughably stupid length of post completed, and went to save the entry – the cunting, fucking, shitting bastard of an application died on me. I lost every single word. I tried all the usual wank in an attempt to save it – close the app, turn device off and back on, etc – but circa 2,000 words and just over an hour of my time were lost to the dark realms of the e-ther (geddit?!) and try as I might to continue the rescue effort, the bloody thing just crashed, crashed and crashed a-fucking-gain. Shitting fuckery hell and bollocks.

So, iOS V users – don’t use Blogpress, OK? Not, at least, it’s been thoroughly updated and tested. It used to be a great wee app – it is, ostensibly, a much more fully featured blogging program than WordPress’s own. But at least (eventually) the latter fucking works. So that is where I find myself as I type this attempt at a re-write.

First though…

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BUT I AM SO ANGRY. THE POST WAS ACTUALLY NOT BAD, UNLIKE FUCKING EVERYTHING I’VE WRITTEN FOR MONTHS. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING CUNTED THE FUCK OFF IF THE BASTARDING PIECE OF FUCKWITTAGE LOST A MORE CHARACTERISTIC LOAD OF FUCKING SHITEY CUNTFLAPPED BELLENDERY, BUT THE FACT IT LOST SOMETHING VAGUELY NOT COMPLETELY BLOODY AWFUL MAKES ME WANT TO SMASH THE LIVING BECHRIST OUT OF EVERYTHING. YOU CAN NEVER BASTARDING WELL REWRITE SOMETHING TOLERABLY BLOODY PASSABLE TO THE SAME PSEUDO-ALRIGHT LEVEL AS IT WAS THE FIRST SHITHEAD OF A TIME YOU FIRST BLOODY WROTE THE BOLLOCKFIST OF A FUCKING THING, SO WHAT FOLLOWS HERE WILL BE BACK TO MY USUAL DICKHEAD STANDARD OF UTTER COCK. FUCK TO THE ENDS OF ALL THE KNOWN BALLWIPED DIMENSIONS. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Well, it’s been a while since there was a proper rant here, hasn’t it? And lo, I used to be the Queen of Rants in the Madosophere. But anyway, now that we’ve got that out of the way…

I’m having some difficulty adjusting to Lamictal. Don’t worry, if you’re one of those odd people that may in some way give a flying arse about my existence, there’s no “FUCK I’M DYING” rash or anything. But the drug has brought me an insane level of fatigue (for example, I nearly fell asleep yesterday afternoon whilst playing Saints Row: The Third, which had delightfully arrived here early. I mean seriously, what the actual fuck? No one with even five per cent of a pulse falls asleep whilst playing Saints fucking Row!!!), my eyes have gone cross-eyed, my levels of forgetfulness that began with Venlafaxine (curse it) are amplified to objectively hilarious points of pseudo-dementia (cf. in people’s company a few days ago: “A, what’s my name again? Oh yeah. And, old chap, should you be so obliging as to advise me on the word one uses to intimate the device used to take a crap? Yes! ‘Toilet’. That’s it.”) and my regular migraine-level headaches are now even more frequent. The last point is especially irritating as, in off-label indications at least, Lamictal is used to treat headaches. Go figure, eh?

The exhaustion is not simply that frustrating but familiar kind of languorous weariness to which we are all often slaves – oh no, this is hardcore stuff, even by my own insomniac standards. It’s that kind of exhaustion that is like an gaping vault of oppressive darkness, sucking you in, dominating you entirely, screwing with your mind until it hurts but rendering you useless to do anything about it. It’s that kind of interminable, preponderant bleak tiredness normally wedded to the very worst of depressions – you know the ones I mean. That old familiar hangdog horror in which rising from your bed is not just a difficulty, but an impossibility. The old foe that leaves you helplessly staring at the wall, willing it with whatever mental faculties you have remaining to somehow show you some mercy and let you die. The old knocking on the door of the mind that reminds you that you have no escape, because you are utterly devoid of enough motivation to even end things yourself. The old living hell that seems unresolvable.

Normally such exhaustion and a depressive hell are thus united – but not in this case. It would be a lie to say that the tiredness does not impact upon my mood in some fashion, but for someone whose mental agility and body alike are so heavily enervated, I actually feel pretty stable in this regard. Indeed, Null thinks I’m high. As I was trying to write the original of this post last night (RIP), I must confess that I did wonder that myself; the style of my prose, whilst slightly better than my shitty norm, did have something of a manic quality to it (perhaps that’s exactly why it was slightly less rubbish than as is typical!).

Allow me to exemplify how OK I am, despite Lamictal’s nefarious side effects. I have exactly £1.06 to my name right now, and even that’s part of my overdraft – yet I am not panicking like an old lady denied her copy of her all-important Bella magazine like I normally would; instead, I’m tolerably riding the wave of patience until I get paid next week. It’s November, and I don’t want to run out and throw myself off the nearest bridge or towerblock. Indeed, even bastarding, fuckwitted, hateful, cunting Shitmas has been surprisingly kind to me this year: the hackneyed and improbably dainty ads for the accursed capitalist nonsense only began registering on my radar about six weeks in advance of 25 December, rather than the 12 or 13 weeks to which I am normally frustratingly used. And, next week, off I go to London, where I am short-listed for a Mind Media Award. I am excited, rather than entirely petrified, by this. I mean, of course I should be excited – but as someone with social anxiety issues which are, at times, very severe, it’s a surprisingly gratifying thing that being faced with being in such a busy venue with – dun-dun-DUN! – famous people does not scare the living bejesus out of me right now.

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Lest anyone think I’m in the midst of a narcissistic delusion of grandeur regarding the awards ceremony, no, I do not – not for half a second – entertain the notion that I could possibly win the award. No way. But it doesn’t matter; what matters is being there. It is enough to have the opportunity to meet some incredibly interesting and highly influential individuals operating in the arena of mental health; it is enough that someone, somewhere has considered this silly blog even worthy of mentioning in the same breath as some truly excellent anti-stigma and exploratory material; it is enough that I dare to see my name listed in honour of the late Mark Hanson, a stalwart of the social media world who suffered from horrendous depression; and it is enough that I have the opportunity to see some of my wonderful old friends and, indeed, to meet one of my oldest and most supportive online friends for the first time (so excited, bourach! :D). Although it would be beyond absolutely incredible to win, to be in the position I already am is more than enough.

So, although I’m fighting medication side effects from every angle, I’m doing relatively well. As for the side effects themselves – well, according to most of the literature on Lamictal, they will pass. Indeed, I already feel them abate, ever so slightly. As the days pass, my eyes will blur things a little less, my energy levels will increase a little more, and my headaches will revert to the mediocre but liveable standards to which I’ve long been accustomed. Maybe the current drug cocktail will, in the end, work for me after all.

What’s that you say, fair reader? “Oh dear God, Pan’s defining characteristic of cynicism has been lost?” No, fear not – I have not become so washed away by some sort of bright absolution that I have become an optimist. Christmas still sucks, the world is still a cunthole, I’m still an infernal misanthrope and I still can’t stand the sight of happy couples frolicking around the shops like some sort of silly vapid bunnies. I’m just a misanthrope that can’t stand the sight of happy couples frolicking around the shops like some sort of silly vapid bunnies who happens not to feel opprobriously atrocious for once.

If you don’t like that…suck it up 😉

(NB. I haven’t proof-read the above folks, sorry. I humbly beg your forgiveness for any poor turn of phrase, grammar, spelling etc, and I shall endeavour to correct such issues at my next available opportunity. Toodle-pip!).

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16 thoughts on “Initial Side Effects of Lamictal…and a Long Overdue Rant

  1. Just wanted to say, reading this has had me laughing for the first time in days. Reading a full on rant, that openly holds as much anger as a full on rant rightly should, and the fact that its exactly where my headspace is at, feels epic. So thanks for that!! Had to share my gratitude.

  2. I don’t think the iPad would have survived if that had happened to me! I really hope the lamictal side effects decrease soon. Other than that, enjoy the Mind Awards, you deserve all the success.

  3. I second (third??!) the above comments- _hilarious_ rant- yes, how did you _not_ break it?- and you deserve your Mind nomination. You deserve to _win_ the award, whatever you think. The five Hanson entries are really good but your’s is definitely the best Pan.

    Have aball, and thank you :o)

    Best wishes
    Kate

  4. Hahahahahahaha! Loved the rant! Pleased to know I am not the only one who loses it, especially where computers are concerned! I had a bit of blurry vision when I started the Lamictal, don’t remember fatigue though. Side effects soon settled down though so I hope the same happens for you. It’s always that dilemma whether to stick with it or whether to flush the lot down the loo in a fit of “fed up of this”.

  5. Oh Pan, this genuinely made me laugh! You must have some self-control not to have smashed the thing 😉 You so deserve the nomination, have a fantabulous time! xxx

  6. You are priceless Pan! I have to say that I enjoyed your rant very much and you are still very much you, which is wonderful. I do hope the side effects decrease and the good parts stay with you.

  7. Gah, it is indeed extremely frustrating to lose a post you’ve written. I have been tempted to throw my device on the floor in a fit of anger, but then *that* wouldn’t bring my post back either.

    Hopefully the side effects pass soon. Staring medication is never fun. Starting Seroquel for anxiety has me fighting to keep my eyes open lately!

    Hope you enjoy yourself at the Mind awards xx

  8. Well, I’m VERY glad Lamictal is helping – I remember being pretty worried about you in November of last year. I hope the side-effects wear off soon.

    Good luck with the awrds ceremony!

  9. I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU!!!!!!!!

    You do realise they will probably show a screen grab of your blog at the mind awards and this will be it?

    FUCKING SHITEY CUNTFLAPPED BELLENDERY

    They’ll love it. we all will – and the wig.

    xxxxxxxxx

  10. On one hand, I am very glad Lamictal never gave me any side effects. Hope they pass, and soon. (On the other, I’m not sure if it ever did anything helpful for me.–Glad it works so well for you.)

    The worst of your writing is still better than most “professional” writing on the net, and the best … I would pay for the privilege of reading it (if I could–don’t start charging until after I start making a decent wage) … visceral, inspiring, entertaining, sublime in passages … I wish I were half the writer you are, Pan. But we’re our own worst critics, right? This is all to say, I hope you have a good time at the Mind Media Awards, and I will not be at all surprised if you win.

  11. Hi, I understand what you mean about the lamictal. At first it did make me sleepy, and i had bad dreams a lot, was tired..etc. I even felt a bit “stupid” right after i took it for a while. But all the side effects, for me, eventually calmed down. For me, being Bipolar, Lamictal is a double edged sword. Its the ONLY medication that works to control my 10 minute mood swings. I no longer do that, for the most part. Thank God for Lamictal in that regard. However, I get where your coming from completely. I have noticed a major “dumbing down” of myself. I say stupid things, i cant remember words, cant do simple math sometimes, i forget lots of stuff actually, and i feel flat as a pancake ( mood and personality wise), my eyes occasionally do weird things for just a split second. I have yet to take a medication like ones we have to take, that did not have a side effect. I can live with these if they keep me from killing somebody in a maddened rant, about nothing. Stick with it, maybe the harsher side effects will wear off like they did for me.

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