I’m going off the Lexapro. Yeah, I know, we all remember what that was like last time. This time, though, I’m doing it under the supervision of an incredibly overpriced (“I don’t bill insurance directly, you’ll have to get reimbursed”) psychiatrist, so I guess that’s an improvement. (I use “supervision” loosely. Because he doesn’t bill my insurance, I can’t actually go to see him again, so that grueling, hour and a half long conversation we had this week will have to suffice. Upshot of $200+, 1.5 hour visit: “You’ll have to do what you think is best.” Uh, thanks.)

Anyway. Yeah, I know that Lexapro is in that weird category of drugs that might be completely harmless to the li’l olive* or might be hideously destructive. No one knows. And yeah, I’m going off it late in the first trimester, and any damage may already be done, but whatever, I’m hoping for the best. And yes, most of all, I am positive that going off the Lexapro right now, two weeks before Big Giant Conference where I am presenting for the first time, is probably not a great idea. But the shrink is all, if you’re going to quit it, quit it now, and that makes sense to  me.

Reassurance would be great. I’ll be fine at the conference, right? Presentation will go fine, everything will be okay, despite the fact that I won’t be drinking or on Lexapro or on Klonopin? (I’ve been advised that Bendryl can be a safe, and mild, sedative. I’m not really hoping for great things from that.)

Yeah. Let the crazy mood swings commence.

*Nine weeks today–apparently the li’l Buzzlet is  “the size of a medium  green olive” this week. Mmmmm, martinis…..

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