Monday, September 29, 2003
Jon writing today.
As many of you know, I started on a very light dose (50 mg) of Zoloft a couple of months ago. This was brought on by depression surrounding trying to "handle" Kyle, and also for anger issues in trying to deal with him. About a week and a half ago, I realized most of my meds were gone. A month's worth had disappeared. Kyle claims he doesn't know what happened to it, but it's a short list of who could or would have taken it. Rather than go back to the doc, the pharmacist, and the insurance company and try to explain what happened, I decided to just go off of them for a month.
While I don't physically feel withdrawal symptoms, they're there. I'm demanding, confrontational, mean, and physical. I have a shorter fuse than I've ever had. The family is keeping their distance, and I don't blame them. Yet, I don't feel my frame of mind and the anger surrounding situations that have arisen is wrong. It's just the way it is. Has anyone ever experienced this?
We started calling Kyle our ghost. He has a way of appearing and disappearing that is spooky. We don't hear him come or go, he's just there or gone. It's like he goes through walls. He still meets his friends somewhere besides our driveway, they pick him up a block or more away. I think this is bizarre, but Karen says it's because he thinks we'll try and keep him home. So, he fades away, slinks up the street, and is gone. He often isn't home when we get up in the morning, even though he may have been there when we went to bed. I guess as long as he's not a major distraction it's probably better to have him around our house than elsewhere. But it does make me uncomfortable sometimes.
Now the good stuff. As we mentioned earlier, Kyle works in a sandwich shop. He is taking his job seriously, and we're proud of him. He's working 40 + hours per week, and getting to work on time every day. He's just doing great. Saturday, he brought me home a sandwich. No reason, he just decided to bring Dad a sandwich. It wasn't that I was hungry, but he was thinking about me. I was so happy. Isn't it funny how something that seemingly minor can bring so much happiness? I thanked him 3 or 4 times. That's Kyle. His bad side is terrible, but his good side is so incredibly sweet and thoughtful you can't help but love him.
As many of you know, I started on a very light dose (50 mg) of Zoloft a couple of months ago. This was brought on by depression surrounding trying to "handle" Kyle, and also for anger issues in trying to deal with him. About a week and a half ago, I realized most of my meds were gone. A month's worth had disappeared. Kyle claims he doesn't know what happened to it, but it's a short list of who could or would have taken it. Rather than go back to the doc, the pharmacist, and the insurance company and try to explain what happened, I decided to just go off of them for a month.
While I don't physically feel withdrawal symptoms, they're there. I'm demanding, confrontational, mean, and physical. I have a shorter fuse than I've ever had. The family is keeping their distance, and I don't blame them. Yet, I don't feel my frame of mind and the anger surrounding situations that have arisen is wrong. It's just the way it is. Has anyone ever experienced this?
We started calling Kyle our ghost. He has a way of appearing and disappearing that is spooky. We don't hear him come or go, he's just there or gone. It's like he goes through walls. He still meets his friends somewhere besides our driveway, they pick him up a block or more away. I think this is bizarre, but Karen says it's because he thinks we'll try and keep him home. So, he fades away, slinks up the street, and is gone. He often isn't home when we get up in the morning, even though he may have been there when we went to bed. I guess as long as he's not a major distraction it's probably better to have him around our house than elsewhere. But it does make me uncomfortable sometimes.
Now the good stuff. As we mentioned earlier, Kyle works in a sandwich shop. He is taking his job seriously, and we're proud of him. He's working 40 + hours per week, and getting to work on time every day. He's just doing great. Saturday, he brought me home a sandwich. No reason, he just decided to bring Dad a sandwich. It wasn't that I was hungry, but he was thinking about me. I was so happy. Isn't it funny how something that seemingly minor can bring so much happiness? I thanked him 3 or 4 times. That's Kyle. His bad side is terrible, but his good side is so incredibly sweet and thoughtful you can't help but love him.
