withdrawal

i went off my SSRIs (sertralin) on tuesday. so this is day five off the pills - for the first time since late october 2007. i am still taking 25mg of trittico (for sleeping / as a mild anti-depressant), but would like to get off those in a few months' time as well.

i'd reduced the dosage of sertralin twice - from 75mg to 50 and then 25, and both times my stomach was a little upset, and i was a little moody for a couple of days, but that was that. once i'd decided that now was the right time to quit (doctor had given okay months ago, said when i felt ready, i should just go ahead), i did. lately i had nearly forgotten to take the pills on some days, and i didn't really expect this to be a big deal. but it's not as easy as i thought it would be. now that i've decided to quit, all i seem to be thinking about is my little white helpers. not a big surprise, though, is it, when i've just not been myself these past five days?

at first i did not even make the connection - i thought i was so exhausted because of the pollen bothering me, or that i'd caught a cold. i didn't think that the effect would be that immediate. but after two days i did some research, asked around a little, and well ... they do have a name for this: SSRI discontinuation syndrome. doesn't that just sound marvellous? long list of symptoms, some of them sounding very familiar: exhaustion - check. occasional headaches - check. stomach problems - check. occasional dizziness - check. occasional sweating - check. temperature - check. and also what they describe as "brain shivers" - check. i have these minor black-outs, it's like arriving at the end of a very short period - of a second or a few seconds or even a split second - and not quite knowing how i got there. i find that sometimes my feet or hands or my brain won't do what i want them to do, at least not immediately - very disconcerting, that. i find it hard to concentrate. i don't sleep well. during the day i sometimes have the feeling i might just fall asleep standing up. i dream a lot, even more than i usually do. i am moody, feel on the verge of tears much of the time. and all this because my brain is trying to find some sort of balance again. i've tried to sleep as much as i can, i try to relax and let myself be distracted without doing too much, and i have my lovely man who supports me and puts up with my moods. i'll see how the weekend goes, and if things don't change, i'll consult my doctor. i just don't want to go back on the pills anymore. i can do what i want to do without them. enough, i say.

on friday, one student felt a panic attack coming on, and when i said "oh i know about those" in the process of helping her, people were surprised, i think. i've often had that reaction: "depressed? panic disorder? you?" but one thing i have learned is that you really cannot tell who has experienced these nasty things. the most outgoing, fun, confident people might tell you that they are being treated for these things, or have been through them in the past. there's just no telling. turned out that some people in my class - and there were only 9 of them on friday - know from their own experience or second-hand (daughters, friends, colleagues, ...). so for a while i abandoned what we'd been doing, answered questions, listened to others' accounts, and it was the right thing to do. i've always been open about this, and i think it does help to show people that they are not the only ones, and to raise awareness. one student wanted to know what to do if anybody around him had a panic attack - he actually seemed pretty scared that he might not know how to react, and he obviously had not realised how common such things are. so, here i am, blogging about this once again. who knows, it might help somebody out there, as it has done in the past.

apart from going off my SSRIs, the birch pollen have been extremely annoying, and i am very much looking forward to the day when i can breathe normally again. and go for a walk outside in the lovely spring weather.

i've been offered more work for five weeks in may and june, which is very good news. this means that i've allowed myself to go away for a few days in may, most likely croatia, just like last year.


song of the day: across the universe (live) by sean lennon, rufus wainwright & moby.

smitten

remember the singer/songwriter i mentioned last time i blogged? lisa lindal. well - i was fortunate enough to see/hear her live on thursday. after a very, very weird estonian movie - the temptation of st tony - that opened the nordic film festival at urania, there was a reception sponsored by the estonian embassy, and the delightful miss lindal flew in from sweden especially for the occasion. both heinz and i had enjoyed some of her songs on the internet, and lisa's performance certainly did not disappoint.

i'd dropped her a note on facebook, and she'd written back and added me as a friend, and i bumped into her a few minutes after the movie, and i said hello. i was surprised at how small she is! petite. but so full of energy - she seemed taller once she was playing the piano and singing.

she opened with moon river, went on to sing a few other classics and cover versions (somewhere over the rainbow - very, very beautiful! - as well as a tom waits song and the terrific cover version of crazy) as well as her own songs (among them my current favourites light in the tunnel and boyfriends make you lazy). unfortunately, as it was a reception in one large room, there was a lot of talking, and i wished people would pay more attention. many of those standing or sitting near the front, however, were drawn in more and more as the performance went on.

the gig confirmed that the girl really can sing. and she can write lovely songs. some of her lyrics are wonderfully quirky. i'd love to talk to her about her influences and the creative process some day. maybe, maybe.

heinz and i had a chance to talk to her after the performance, which was nice. we contemplated going to bratislava for her gig yesterday evening, but it would have been rather stressful for heinz, and we might not have made it on time, so we didn't go after all. lisa seems to be stuck in vienna now, what with the volcano coughing up ash in faraway iceland, so who knows, she might give some spontaneous concerts. ;)

if you haven't done so yet, do check her out. she is well worth it. her album's due out in autumn.


apart from this my latest obsession: i am enjoying time with my current english students, they are fun, motivated, interested. we had almost a week of rain, which pissed most people off, but meant pollen relief for people like me. iceland's been sending volcanic greetings to much of europe, thanks. i feel like writing much of the time, but can't seem to be able to string three lines together - aargh. i received the very beautiful and enjoyable press 1 anthology The Red Room - one of my poems, equinox, is in very good company there. thanks to arlene ang, valerie fox and jordan schilling for their great work at press 1!


song of the day: the light in the tunnel by lisa lindal.

music and more music

heinz and i went to see the delightful holly cole at konzerthaus in march. i'd never seen her live, but had heard people raving about her performances. it was an evening of almost exclusively tom waits songs - and if i can't have tom waits performing tom waits, then i'll very happily listen to holly performing his work. she is good on recordings, but she is simply amazing live. she just makes each song totally unique, and her band's a perfect match for her. the highlight was perhaps a children's song that her father used to sing to his kids: holly and the percussionist sat down on the floor, using heels, hands, chairs as instruments. all the more charming and touching because her father was in the audience. she's also charming, funny, and chatty, which i love. great night out in a beautiful concert hall - and for half the money they charge for most pop concerts these days.

very recently i discovered swedish singer lisa lindal. i came across her by coincidence, read that she would be performing live on the opening night of the scandinavian film festival here in vienna on 15 april and had to check her out online. absolutely worth it. visit youtube for videos of her performing a terrific cover version of gnarls barkley's "crazy" (accompanied by piano and violin!) and a few of her songs, stop by her myspace page or her website, where you can listen to several of her songs. (and yes, there are similarities between her and tori amos, but they're certainly not identical twins.) she rocks. and you heard it from me. ;)


song of the day: boyfriends make you lazy by lisa lindal.

lucille clifton (1936-2010)

poet lucille clifton died yesterday. here's one of my favourite poems by her:

sorrows

who would believe them winged
who would believe they could be

beautiful         who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin


sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls         clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh


they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own

cupped hands       enough not me again
enough       but who can distinguish

one human voice   
amid such choruses of   desire


-- lucille clifton


song of the day: man of the hour by pearl jam.

monthiversary

heinz and i first met 18 months ago yesterday - 13 august 2008, so we spent a lovely, relaxing saturday together. :)








song of the day: life is sweet by natalie merchant.

romantik!

i'd been looking forward to last night's element of crime concert since i first heard about the 2010 tour. it was my 4th - the venue once again gasometer, which is far from perfect, but unfortunately vienna doesn't seem to have any decent venues of that size. anyway: the band was great - as usual, i should add. i'm tempted to say that this was actually the best EOC concert i've been to. the musicians are all very, very good, i'm smitten with sven regener's trumpet(-playing). they've been playing together for ages, which could lead to boredom, i suppose, but boring is not a word that comes to mind when i think of last night's performance.

it was so very cool that they played really old songs, even some of the very early days EOC songs in english, in addition to many songs from the latest album. i was particularly pleased that they played "am ende denk ich immer nur an dich", which is my favourite song on their latest album - such delightful lyrics; "jetzt musst du springen", which is an old fave of mine; "schwere see".

EOC are not a band for those who are looking for something new on every album, let alone in every song. sven regener (songwriter, poet, writer, mastermind) himself says that he's been writing the same few songs over and over again since the early 90s. but then they never sound exactly the same, there are no identical twins. there's always a twist somewhere (both in music and lyrics), a fabulous new phrase or pun, an image that is striking in its simplicity and/or its "i've-never-looked-at-this-in-quite-the-same-way" originality (for want of a better word). regener is a keen observer of the everyday, and - in my opinion - the most poetic german songwriter. there are quite a few lines in his lyrics that have made me think "i wish *i* had thought of that!", which is a great compliment.

of course, being a poet myself, i have a weakness for wordplay, for unexpected word choices in strange places that can open up whole new worlds. and something i loved about last night was the fact that there were visible and audible reactions to certain images regener painted with words: a smile, a laugh, a snicker, a "ha!", or clapping - occasionally i could tell that the person had probably never heard that song before, or never paid attention to that particular part. it's fantastic to be among people who appreciate that. it's a sign that poetry IS appreciated, enjoyed.


thanks, sven regener, thanks element of crime, for a lovely evening: "vielndank!"

review & set list in german @ fm4: Agentenfunkchansons und Zahlen


song of the day: am ende denk ich immer nur an dich by element of crime.

colds, headaches, crime, and poetry

my students apparently brought enough germs to the classroom to make me sick, too, so i had to stay home from work for a couple of days. blah.

at least i had time to read a novel that managed to give me nightmares two nights in a row - "menschenteufel" (which translates as "human devil") by marcus rafelsberger. i am not normally a fan of crime novels, but i was curious, as rafelsberger is an old schoolmate's husband. quite well-written, but then i don't have much to compare it to. but it certainly held my attention! a bonus was that the book is set in vienna, and therefore i repeatedly came across places i know. i am now ready to begin another jasper fforde novel - yay!

another book i just (re-)read is jayne pupek's poetry collection "forms of intercession". if i had to sum up the book in one word, it would be: brave. it's been a while since i read a book of poems that confronted me with so much beauty and so much unpleasantness - in short: everything human. pupek doesn't stop where others might not dare to go, and that makes her stand out. there are poems that i've returned to four, five, ten times - and i am sure will go back to again. it's as if they grabbed me by the throat when i first read them, and have not quite let go. while the best way to learn about life is still, well, living it, but books like pupek's come a close second.

my muse probably didn't want to catch my cold and has been quite for a few days, but before she took that time-out, we created this (not decided on the [sub]title yet):

069
Thulium (Tm)

       I swear I'm only human, wishing I could disappear
       -- Amelia Curran, "The Mistress"

This is what happens when gods get drunk:
You start a conversation and ice is left to melt

in fancy drinks. Hours later, three hasty kisses
and the cold metal of his ring against your cheek.

By then it's already too late for the promise
you made to yourself: this ends right here.

The first time, you make butterflies dance
on the blanket. You measure time in heartbeats

and the cooling of sweaty limbs. Months later,
it's pale green sheets and the ticking of a clock

that translates as judgement - wrong, sad,
wrong, sad - and stirs the beginnings of loathing,

rushes the slow dying of love. Gravedigger
you call yourself, late at night, when you wake

from dreams that are part of the high price
you pay. Gravedigger. And you are digging deep.

You have 69 random words in your pockets –
for a love letter, for a note of farewell.

The one word that's missing is hope. The gods
who tempted you are fast asleep. Like him

in that other place, where your mind can't go,
which you'd still know by its scent: routine, love,

and lies. Your shadow sleeps between them,
but that doesn't comfort you. When this is over,

there won't be any sympathy, just as there are
no gifts: you are the beggar, you are the thief.


song of the day: breathe (2 am) by anna nalick.