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Medicated Artist: Let’s Talk About Side Effects

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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.

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Medicated Artist: Introduction

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Well, here goes….

I’m like when you walk in mud and your foot sinks down. Your foot makes a depression. That’s how I feel most of the time. Occasionally the ground will puff back up, or the depression will fill in due to other factors like a gully washer that moves the mud around, or maybe a dust storm to blow everything out of wack.

Doesn’t happen often though. Mostly that mud hole hangs and hangs and hangs around.

Anyway, that’s how my normal feels (feeling depressed). I’ve been living like that for, oh, like for as long as I can remember, which isn’t that long. 18 or 20 years, maybe? I’m not sure. Anyway, I’ve dealt with it. I’ve lived with it. It’s sort of who I am. It feels like who I am. (Is it who I am?)

And I’ve used different tools that I’ve come up with on my own to cope. Some things that I’ve shared and others that I don’t. Things like writing and music and performing, etc etc etc.

But for the past 2 years, or 3 years, or 4, or 5, or 13 years it just seems harder and harder to keep up with those things. Or, they don’t work as well. Or, I just quit them and move to on to find something else. And then it sort of gnaws at me because maybe I really did enjoy those things that I quit. Maybe I was actually good at them. Maybe they were actually good for me. Maybe they weren’t just tools that I used. Weren’t just STOP GAPS to make the mud fill back in (so to speak).

One of those things is music. Writing and performing and playing and talking about it. Being around it. I used it. And I’ve felt for the past few years like I used it up. (Is that possible when I’ve only been performing for like 5 or 6 years?) So I have a strange relationship with this thing. I love it and hate it. I have to do it and want nothing to do with it. It drives me forward and it makes my head hurt.

So there’s that.

And there’s the part where being depressed all the time just wrecks havoc on all the parts of your life. You fall to pieces. You put them together. Then there’s an earthquake. Everything is a mess. Then it’s okay again. It’s confusing and frustrating. It’s strange that it feels normal to me even though I know that it’s not normal. (It’s not, right?)

Anyway. I’m being honest about it. About how I feel every day. I’m being open and not very cautious, which is something that I NEVER DO. And, so I’ll be honest in saying that I’m kind of getting tired of feeling this way all the time.

So, I figured it was time to try something new and get ALL DRUGGED UP. (NOTE: This isn’t to say that I’m just hitting the pills from the get go. Therapy has worked wonders for me and will continue to do so, okay?)

And I’m scared about taking medication. I’ve never taken more than an aspirin to fix a headache and I’m a little worried that the head drugs from BIG PHARMA will just make me into some sort of zombie. Like, I’ll never write a song ever again (not that I’m writing any new songs or even picking up any instrument at all right now, or for the past 6 months).

Or, I won’t feel like myself. I’ll just become someone new. (Presto! Smiling, Happy, Good-Time-Having Andrew is here!) Now, I’m all for being in a constant state of becoming. But, I mean, taking pills and, sort of like, completely just going out of focus. Feeling fine, but everything is blurry. I’ve been told that is not how these drugs work. I DON’T BELIEVE IT.

But, for all my fears I’m just gonna go ahead and see if it works. Can’t hurt, right? And I’m going to sort of document how it feels here on Music Vomit in long-winded and over-the-top posts like this one and probably also in shorter, more concise moments over on Twitter at @MusicVomit.

I guess I’m writing about it, not only to work through my own fears by writing them out, and not only to document how it actually feels mentally, physically, and emotionally, but also it’s something I can use to just start writing (creatively or otherwise) again. I used to write 5,000 words a day. Now, I’m lucky if I write a note to pick up dish soap at the store.

One thing I’m going to try and not do is get up on a SOAPBOX about depression and mental illness. I don’t know enough about either (other than living with depression) to talk about them in an intelligent (or stupid) way. So, I’m just going to stick to how the DRUGS are effecting my creativity with an occasional glimpse into how they’re effecting the other parts of my life and only seldom will get all HIGH AND MIGHTY about the ways in which BIG PHARMA has us all BY THE BALLS.

That’s what this whole Medicated Artist thing will be about. I realize what I’ve written is all kind of vague, but I’ll get into more specifics in upcoming posts. Things like: SIDE EFFECTS, what and how I’m working on and how it’s different or the same, if I gain a THOUSAND POUNDS. Stuff like that. Hopefully it’ll be somewhat entertaining. Hopefully it won’t be PAINFUL. (This is what I’m worried about.)

So, here goes….