The things you see

So yesterday was my first experience with micro-dosing. I don’t know what I expected but it definitely wasn’t that.

I guess I do know what I expected. I thought it would make me able to get through a day without a nap. (Wrong.)

I thought it would lift my depression but that’s usually in the day afterwards, from what I’ve read. So I guess that remains to be seen.

What I didn’t expect: suddenly breaking down and sobbing around the time of the drug’s peak effect.

All the tears I’ve been suppressing through my husband’s bout with cancer finally came rushing out. I just suddenly realized that I really am going to lose him and it hit me with much more reality and gravity than it normally does.

I guess the way I can describe it is that when I usually write or talk about it, it’s almost like I’m describing something that’s happening to someone else. I feel very emotionally removed from it, if that makes any sense. And often my concerns are more pragmatic, wondering what will happen to me in the future. I very intentionally avoid trying to feel anything.

This time, I just cried and cried over the reality that he won’t be here.

After I got that out of my system, I did feel much better. In that way, I guess the micro-dose worked much like a session with a really good therapist. (Or at least, what I assume a really good therapist would be like. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one but I still assume they really exist.)

I talked to my daughter about my experience and she said she thought that was the reason I wanted to do it, to confront my fears that I’ve been trying so hard to shove to the side and that I wouldn’t let myself feel.

Yeah, not so much. I really just went into it expecting something that would help me deal better with depression. And I suppose that confronting the things you’ve been suppressing is actually a good way to feel less depressed.

I’m still not sure how I feel about trying it again any time soon, though.