Tag Archives: antidepressant

Medicated Artist: On The Move

Note: Now, I know I said I wouldn’t really get into the day-to-day of how I’m feeling in these Medicated Artist posts and I’d stick to mainly just talking about how medication is effecting my ability to create art, but this is directly related to that.

I’m not sure why, but while I was driving back home from my day job today I was all of a sudden in a TERRIBLE MOOD. Yes, sitting all day in one spot at a desk that COMPLETELY SURROUNDS YOU will do that to anyone. It just wears you down, which is weird because it’s the most non-physically-straining and non-mentally-straining thing to do. Ever. But, I don’t think that’s what it was that got to me.

Medicated Artist: On The Move
Self Portrait. September 12, 2013

I wasn’t feeling worn down. I hardly really feel that way much at all anymore. I have ENERGY! I can feel my heart GOING! I feel TWITCHY! But not in a bad way. Not necessarily in a good way either. Just feels different. Or, I’ve felt that feeling before, but not for extended amounts of time. It’d come and go. Like…it’d be there coming down from the stage after a performance. Or, immediately in the aftermath of writing a song that took 3 minutes to complete. Or, even after seeing a really giant spider stringing a web from the garage tops in the alley.

So, I’ve got that going on. And sometimes it’s hard to know what to do with that energy. Especially while sitting all day in one spot, like I said.

And then sitting in one spot in traffic.

And then Busta Rhymes comes up in the song shuffle and you start thinking to yourself, “Hey, I’m just never going to perform music ever again. I just don’t want to. There’s no need at all. And, I’ll also never write anything ever again. It’s stupid to do that. I feel okay and I’ve got all this energy and, yeah, that also makes me feel really terrible.” (You think a lot to yourself sitting in traffic.)

Like, the only thing you know you want to do is NOT play guitar, or not write, or not do that thing you love most and makes you feel human EVER AGAIN. And that’s like just handing you a shovel and saying, “Here, dig yourself a hole and then just KEEP DIGGING.” Eventually the sides of the hole cave in when you get too far down, ya dig? The Earth piles on top of you and you think there’s pretty much nothing else.

But then you hear a song that you wrote about your daughter. (Yes, I listen to my own songs. They help me know where I’ve been and where I’m headed. They tell my story, in a way, I suppose. And it’s good to remember that sometimes. It’s also good to say, “Geez, that song was bad. Can’t believe I let anyone else hear that.” It can be humbling. [Yes, this is how you spell “humbling.” I checked. It’s weird, though, isn’t it?] But also, I have a HUGE EGO.)

And then you hear Sister Rosetta Tharpe sing “What He Done For Me?” And you think about how it’d be a good idea to write on your blog about how low you can get and how it just comes on all of a sudden. And (maybe because of all that) you then have like 4 or 5 ideas for new songs or new directions to go.

That can be how it is.

Which is weird to think that just considering DOING SOMETHING makes my mood shift like that. It’s like a flood coming down. You just gotta jump out of the boat or roll with it.

It’s a strange feeling and I’m not sure if the medication I’m taking is the cause or the effect of that. If it’s clouding up my brain. If it’s making everything move so fast. If it’s a good fast or a bad fast. Or if it’s not doing anything at all.

Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s going on at all. Sometimes everything makes sense.

Medicated Artist: Observations After One Week

I’m not really up for writing a bunch of observations like this, but I’m going to do it anyway. Sort of, like, do it for the sake of doing it, ya know? Most of the time that helps me get through some sort of creative block. Like, I’ll just not want to write any music or ANYTHING at all, but I know if I force myself then I’ll get through. That’s what the New Song Blog is all about. That’s what every iteration of The Talkin’ Headline Blues is all about. That’s also, actually, what these Medicated Artist posts are all about too. Just a simple way to keep working.

Medicated Artist: Observations After One Week
Illustration by a.f.t.b.

Now, enough of that and on to some observations on how the antidepressant medication effected me the first week. Or, how it did or did not effect my writing, music, and all that. Here goes (in list form!):

  1. Picked up my guitar Sunday night for the first time since I sat down to record this song back on August 26. Here’s how that felt (as a SUB-LIST!):
    1. After about 20 minutes my hands started to ache.
    2. My voice has gotten so out of practice since I haven’t performed in like 6 months (or done much of any playing of any kind) that singing for too long kind of hurt.
    3. I don’t really remember how to play any songs. Mine or any others that I used to know. I just don’t really remember them. I probably don’t really have that great of a memory to begin with, so to learn songs I used to just play them, over and over and over, constantly. Not doing that, they just slip right out of my head.
      1. Note that the one song that I probably won’t ever forget is this one. Mainly, because I sing it every single night.
    4. When I did attempt playing a song, usually I got bored with it pretty soon after starting.
    5. No desire to write anything new.
    6. But, it did feel good to just sit down and STRUGGLE through a bunch of songs that I thought I still knew. And, surprisingly, struggling through them, relearning them, remembering them wasn’t frustrating at all.
    7. Now, I don’t chalk any of that up to the medication. Most of it is the cause, probably, of the depression. It’s like digging myself into a hole. I didn’t feel up for music and then, if I did, I was insanely out of practice and got frustrated and quit. So, maybe the drugs helped that aspect out a little. Maybe they just eased it a little bit. Or maybe not. Right now I don’t feel like they’re easing anything like that. I just want to DELETE all this. WHAT’S THE POINT.
  2. In general, I think I probably didn’t feel like a BIG DRAG all the time. Only sometimes, and maybe not at all. So that was a weird thing to notice. It’s hard to explain. It was just sort of a little easier to get through the day.
  3. Also, for the most part, sitting down to write, either these blog posts or just free writing with no particular aim, was a little bit less hard to do. No idea if this has anything to do with taking medication or not. (Do you see yet how I OVER ANALYZE?)
  4. On Monday I wrote the 92nd version in the Talkin’ Headline song series that you can listen to right here. It’s something that I meant to do every week when I first started, but it got harder and harder to keep up with and I’m not really sure why. Those songs are so easy to write. I don’t even have to do anything except go to CNN.com and find headline phrases with words that rhyme. SO EASY.
    1. I’ll say this: When I sat down to record this tune, I just really did not want to do it. Took all my effort to not just pack it in and go to bed. Somehow I got through that.
    2. Also, it was sort of strange, or felt strange. Like, I didn’t quite feel like myself or something while I was recording the song. That was kind of weird.
  5. And then, of course, I took the time to put together this sort-of-critical, over-the-top, why-am-I-doing-this blog post. I understand that even when I think it’s silly or stupid to do these, it’s something to work on and gets me back to writing. I’m willing to risk upsetting my comfort and disturbing my perceived privacy in order to get back to work, ya dig?

So, I stuck pretty close to just talking about how the medication is effecting my creativity. (I think I did that. Did I do that?) So far, I haven’t experienced any of the fears I talked about in my first two posts. That’s something, I suppose. Or, maybe the drugs haven’t even started working yet. Then what? Am I to believe that I don’t even need them? Hmm…

Medicated Artist: Let’s Talk About Side Effects

I’ve been taking this stuff for almost a week now, so let’s get into the side effects and then maybe look at if I’m feeling any at all.

So here’s what I’ve got to (possibly) look forward to:

  • Epileptic seizures are the most important adverse effect of bupropion. (GREAT!)
  • Hypertension, sometimes severe, was observed in some patients. (SCORE!)
  • The most common adverse effects associated with 12-hour sustained-release bupropion are reported to be dry mouth, nausea, insomnia, tremor, excessive sweating and tinnitus. (PERFECT!)
Medicated Artist: SIDE EFFECTS
Self Portrait. September 4, 2013.

I mean, who could ask for anything more! But really, I already sweat A LOT, so no big deal there. And I’ve been told that I sleep like a DEAD MAN, so I’m not too worried about insomnia. Plus, usually when I’m most depressed, I stay up way too late mindlessly eating Fritos anyway. Fritos know my PAIN. Fritos are always there to LISTEN.

I have had a little dry mouth already. Just like the first 2 days, though, and then I started drinking water like a HIPPO. PROBLEM SOLVED.

But now I have to use the bathroom every 20 minutes. #BecomingAnOldMan

I’m not sure what THE TREMOR is. But I have been feeling a little agitated, or, like I’ve got MORE ENERGY. It’s probably what drinking a 5-HOUR ENERGY SHOT is like. I sort of feel like that all the time now, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I bet people used to wonder if they should prod me with something to get me to respond to them or to do a task that seemed simple. I’m LAZY.

But I don’t feel as lazy now, I guess, if that makes sense.

Oh, and no tinnitus yet. That shit scares me a little, though. I know people who have that. My dad has that. That right there sounds like something that could have an effect on writing and playing and performing music. I don’t want that none.

So what does all this have to do with anything? What does it have to do with my creative process? I did say in my first Medicated Artist post that I was going to stick to talking about how the medication is effecting my ability to create music, art, writing, not about how it makes me feel. Not anything that begins with DEAR DIARY.

But I do think that the way it makes me feel is probably going to be related to how I create. Maybe. I know it’s only been 5 days, so I shouldn’t go leaping to any conclusions (or even think that the drugs are working yet at all), but I’ll say I feel less weight on me the past few days. Like everything is less heavy. I’m less heavy. The events that happen to me are less heavy. History and the future seem less heavy. Only by a small bit, but I still notice it.

But, what was that weight? Did it serve any purpose? Was that weight the thing that pushed me to create?

That’s what I was wondering tonight.

Are these pills taking the weight away. And, if so, are they taking away my creativity? It’s way too early to know because I haven’t sat down to try and write music or play music, but I am writing this. I was able to do more free writing the past 5 days than I have in the past year. Hmm.

And then I start thinking that this weight that isn’t so heavy is maybe more like a void. (Can a void be heavy? Can it weigh you down? I don’t know. Why didn’t I pay attention in PHYSICS CLASS?)

What I mean is, an emptiness that needed to be filled over and over and over, again and again and again. The need to fill it was so strong that the need alone began to feel heavy. And I’ve figured out over the years a whole lot of ways to fill up that emptiness. Music and writing did it. Love did it. But never all the way. The void just kept coming back over and over, again and again.

So now I don’t feel that as much. I still do, but I notice the difference. Enough to even notice that maybe that’s what it always was since I never really thought of it in this way before. But that has me thinking….Are the drugs now filling up that void? Are they taking up space where I would have written a song or felt the need to perform on stage or gotten satisfaction from writing for 2 hours straight? Will I ever feel the same need to write or play music again? If it’s going to be different, how will the songs I write change (if at all)? Can I create without the need to fill some emptiness within myself? What, then, drives me? Does music and writing and art become less a solution to an internal problem and more a….well, I’m not sure? What’s the opposite of a solution to a problem? Does art become the problem? And then what’s the solution to that?

These are all HUGE QUESTIONS. They can’t ever be answered. At least not now. It’s just things I was thinking tonight. Plus, I realize that I’m not very far into all this medicating of myself and I also realize that by writing this entirely TOO LONG post I’m maybe answering most of those questions above. I’m emptying my fears, if you will. And, for now, I’m okay with that.