Thursday, May 04, 2006
My Ankles Hurt...
I'm going off an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety drug I've been on for 3 odd years because the stupid stuff made my blood pressure shoot up. The withdrawal is ugly. I've been fairly lucky as I haven't had too many body side effects but I've had a whack of emotional/mental ones (and Mike, a whack of side effects is at least 5 and up to 7). The first week I swore I was either developing asthma, having a heart attack or suffering from pneumonia. The tension in my chest and back was brutal. I also had ugly acid reflux. I hate burping, so that was a particularly icky side effect. Now I'm all emotional. I cried because of a financial mistake this morning, and I actually threw stuff around in the bathroom. Then I yelled at my cat because she peed in a chair. She only pees in a chair when the litter box isn't to her liking. I had a mild panic attack while cleaning out the litter bins. Even the English secretary noticed how off I was today. Bleargh-o-rama.
So my ankles hurt because the only thing that has kept me relatively sane over the past 10 days has been walking. I have walked a stupid number of kilometres. I walk everywhere. I'll walk instead of taking the bus, and I'll walk to get stuff even if I don't really need stuff. I walk around the house, the yard, the neighborhood, downtown, uptown, pretty much anywhere it's legal to walk. Weirdly enough, my hips don't hurt, me leg muscles don't hurt, my oft-sore toe doesn't hurt, and even though I've been carrying bags and purses in a most awkward fashion my back, shoulders and arms don't hurt. The sunburn I got while walking doesn't hurt. My ankles hurt. My brain hurts a bit too, but today it's all about the ankles.
This post is for you, Mike, and your ankle fascination.